Through the Eyes of a Cat
by JokertheMatrix
Summary: By accident, Flying Mint Bunny turns England, France, Spain, and Prussia into cats! While Flying Mint Bunny gets the cure, the cats get separated, and find themselves in the care of certain countries. As Flying Mint Bunny looks for them, the nations-turned-cats find out more about those taking care of them. Rated T for mild swearing and some implications. Multiple Pairings
1. Because of a Bunny, We are now Cats

Inspired to write this story after reading Iggycat's "Tailspin". Aren't cats so cute? Anyways, this is something I thought up on a whim, so it should be relatively short (at least 4 more updates at least). I hope you like it! I apologize for the use of "frog" towards France, if anyone is offended by it. Oh, and for the mild swearing. Multiple pairings; not going to say which, but they should be evident.

**Hetalia isn't mine, neither is the concept of Nekotalia**

* * *

"Nn..."

On top of a desk was a mint green bunny; if that wasn't weird already, it had wings. The creature stretched its minute body, almost as if it were a cat. Flying Mint Bunny looked around its master's room, a nagging feeling in his heart.

_That's weird._ The little mint bunny looked around, not exactly sure what his was looking for. _Master's not here…_ His wings drooped slightly; he was used to seeing the blonde-haired, bushy-browed nation curled up in bed when he woke up.

_Ah, I think he said there was a meeting here today or something..._ Sighing, he unfolded his wings, ready to take flight, but not before he noticed a purple cloth bag in front of him.

_Ah! Master was working on this all afternoon yesterday!_ It was something about "revenge on that stupid hamburger-eating git". Either way, his master probably needed it, or else he wouldn't have stuck a "Do Not Forget" post-it on it. _Hm… I bet Master needs this then, seeing as how he forgot it…_

Picking up the small cloth bag with his arms, Flying Mint Bunny started to fly to the meeting building.

'~'~'

"Say that to my face, you frog! ! !"

Inside the spacious meeting room, two nations stood in the middle of the room, the half-circle of tables surrounding them, the brown chairs empty of any other nations. One of them was a blue-eyed, wavy haired blonde man with a perma stubble on his chin, making him look older than the other. He wore a pristine white suit with a crimson red dress shirt and a burgundy tie; simple, but he managed to look flashy in it. The other was also a blonde, except he was slimmer, with beautiful emerald green eyes covered by unbelievably thick eyebrows. He wore a crisp brown suit over a dark brown vest and white shirt, a blue tie tucked into the vest. Both men were facing each other in a standoff, a hostile tension in the air.

"_Angleterre,_ can this not wait until after lunch?" France's face was annoyingly smug. "It is improper to fight on an empty stomach."

"When I'm done with you," England breathed in and out, his hand balled into fists. "You'll have much more important things to be worrying about than food."

"Hey France," A man wearing a long-sleeved, white buttoned dress shirt and light brown pants walked in from the door. He was a tanned man with curly brown hair, his olive green eyes alight with enough happiness to be infectious- in other words, Spain had walked through the door. "When are you going to finish? Romano made me churros today, and I can't wait to eat them!"

"Yeah, it usually doesn't take this long for England to beat the crap out of you," An eerily red-eyed albino walked in after Spain, his expression wholly amused. Unlike his character, he was wearing a night black suit with golden buttons, a suit that was no doubt forced upon him by his brother Germany if he was to participate in the meeting, which would explain why the little bird he usually had with him wasn't with him today. "I can help you if you want- after all, there's no one better than the awesome me when it comes to fighting!" A bout of "keseseses" immediately followed this bold statement, distracting France.

"Prussia, do you honestly believe that I can't take on this impertinent Englishman?" France turned to face the amused albino. "_Mon ami_, I would think that you'd have more faith in my-"

SMACK!

England's right hand connected to France's left cheek, the impact sending him to the floor.

"Hmph!" England stood over the other man, who was rubbing his injured cheek delicately. "_Never_ take your eyes off your opponent. Even an idiot like you should know that."

"Why you-" France started to get up, hate filling his eyes. England prepared himself from the hit that was probably going to come at him, steeling himself and planning his next move; if he was right, France would also punch him, and if England managed to dodge it in time, he could-

"ENGLAND! I'll save you!" A familiar voice wafted from England's left, throwing him off.

"Flying-?"

SMACK!

England barely noticed the hit from France, nor did he mind falling flat on his buttocks. All that mattered was the green bunny currently zipping towards the Frenchman's face from an open window, also holding a- "No! Stay back!"

"What are you-?"

SMACK!

Flying Mint Bunny came in contact to France's face, also spilling the contents of the bag on the floor. Out came a glass vial containing a cherry red liquid, which upon hitting the floor, released a great purple cloud of dust. When the dust settled, four sets of suits were lying on the ground.

"Master England?" Flying Mint Bunny came to the brown suit on the floor, noticing a huge lump under it. "Are you alright?"

"Mew."

A white cat with a large orange spot on the left side of its eyes appeared from under the suit, its slim orange tail hanging in the air. Flying Mint Bunny never would've known the cat was his master until he saw that the cat had the same green eyes and thick eyebrows as his human form.

"[Flying Mint Bunny, look what you'd done!]" Oddly enough, Flying Mint Bunny could understand the cat perfectly despite being unable to speak Cat. He supposed it was because his master had been turned into a feline by magic, therefore making him a magical creature like him. Or he could just somehow understand Cat. It wasn't that far off; he could speak Rabbit after all, and a bit of Mochi if he tried. "[I don't know why you're here, but you've appeared to have brought the 'Turn into a Cat' potion I had created yesterday.]"

"I'm sorry Master," Flying Mint Bunny hung its head. "But there was a 'Do Not Forget' post-it sticking on it, and I figured that you had forgotten it, so I brought it to you."

The cat sighed. "[It's alright. I _was_ planning to use it on America today, but I seemed to have forgotten it in my rush this morning. You did nothing wrong,]" he assured the creature, who had immediately brightened up afterwards. "[However, I am in no state to turn us back, so I'm going to need you to get the fairies. Make sure that you tell them to bring the fairy dust; If I'm correct, it _should_ turn us back to normal.]"

Flying Mint Bunny nodded, already flapping its wings. "Alright. I won't let you down this time Master!" And with that, the little creature zoomed out the window it came from. Meanwhile, England turned to the others, seeing who else was turned into a cat. Walking to the nearest suit, England poked the suit that had previously belonged to France.

"[Oi, are you in there?]"

"[You're voice sounds different,]" From under the suit came out a silky, long-haired gray cat with a bushy tail. Shock registered on the cat's face as he turned to England. "[England, where are you?]"

"[Idiot,]" France jumped at England's condescending voice. "[I'm right here, you dolt; if you haven't noticed, you've been turned into a cat.]"

"[A cat? Don't spout out such nonsense,]" France let out a disbelieving snort and started to lick a paw, which he immediately stared at. "[…I can't believe you're right,]" was all he said before he promptly fainted.

"[Oi, wake up,]" England sighed and prodded him again and again until he came to. "[I still have the other two to worry about; I don't want to worry about _you_ of all nations when there are more important things to be done.]"

"[Yeah, like turning us back,]" England turned to the direction of Prussia's voice, only to see a white cat with red eyes and a scar on both his left eye and near his neck. "[The awesome me needs his awesome body back.]"

"[But what's so wrong about staying as a cat?]" From under Spain's suit came out a white cat who had light brown patches at the top of his head and ears, across his spine, and through mid-section of his tail. "[I can siesta all day now! Although now that I think about it,]" Spain tilted his head to the side. "[I can't talk to Romano or Italy or Belgium or any other nation like this.]"

"[Don't worry,]" England licked a paw then ran it through his ear. "[With any luck, our cure should be coming in anytime soo-]" England let out a hiss as a janitor came in the room.

"Eh? What are these flea balls doing here? Shoo, skedaddle!" The janitor chased them out of the room with his broom.

Instinct spread through England's body with a fire, and he found himself running like crazy from the human, with a sinking sense as he realized that the others were the same.

_No! If we separate now, Flying Mint Bunny won't be able to find us!_ But it was too late; without realizing it, he had run to a completely different part of the building, with the others out of sight.

''''''''''

France paused, suddenly feeling out of breath. _Where am I?_ It was bad enough that the meeting was being held at England's place, but now he found himself lost in a building in London with the body of a cat, with no way to turn back.

France walked through the white halls of the building, aimlessly wandering and getting even more lost. _If only somebody could come along and help me already…_ He would've held his head down if he wasn't looking for someone and/or a way back. _Preferably a nice _mademoiselle_, but at this point, I wouldn't care if someone like Russia came along to save me! On second thought, _please_ let it not be Russia! Please let it be some kind- preferably good looking- soul!_

Bump!

France stumbled back. _What did I just hit?_ Looking up, he found himself staring at violent eyes hidden behind glasses frames. Wavy hair, with the blonde going from a light blonde to a more orange shade as it went down, was tucked behind his ear, with the ever-present long curl sticking out of his head. He wore a long-sleeved, light blue dress shirt with a red tie, and France found that he had hit his right leg, which was covered in dark brown pants.

"What's a kitty doing here?" Canada squatted down to eye level with the cat, placing the white polar bear that was always with him to his side. "Hm… No collar, eh? What should we do Kumakiri?" He asked the polar bear.

As if waking up from a deep sleep, the polar bear (who was actually named Kumajirou) yawned and stared at Canada with half-lidded eyes. "Who?"

"I agree Kidakichi," Canada nodded, apparently taking the question as an answer. "We should take care of him…or her, at least until we find his or her owner," Canada turned to France, who had just stood there through the whole exchange. "Are you okay with that Mr. Kitty?"

France purred. _Canada, huh? I must have better luck than I thought…_

_'''''''''_

Prussia kept running, even though the janitor was already out of the way. _Heh, nothing can run faster than the awesome me! _Prussia sat down and proceeded to lick his paw. _Although now that I think about it, where am I? _He looked around to find himself near the entrance of the building. He was sitting on a snug rug in front of intricate double doors, right next to a small side table with flowers on top.

The cat shrugged, continuing to lick his paws. _Doesn't matter; West will probably find me and bring me home until I'm back to normal. I just hope the dogs will recognize me before they run me out of the house… Or that I don't accidentally eat the cute little chick that's always with me…_

"Ah, what's such a cute kitty doing over here?"

_Shit._

Prussia recognized that voice anytime. Who couldn't? Naturally, it was expected for him to recognize the voice of a person he hated with every fiber of his being; he was surprised his eyelashes hadn't fallen off yet by just being in his presence. Forcing himself to turn to face him, Prussia stopped what he was doing and found himself seeing a familiar tall figure wearing a white hooded jacket over a dark brown sweater vest and a white dress shirt with a red tie, his dark pants partly covering his black shoes. He stared back at the childish face, the man's beige-blonde hair framing his prominent nose and appropriately curious violet eyes.

"Are you lost?" Prussia arched his back and hissed as Russia bent down to pet him.

"Oh…" He retracted his hand, a hurt briefly showing on his face before being replaced by steel. "You don't like me…Well," Prussia yowled as Russia picked him up and looked at him.

_Damn it, how do these claws work? !_ He hissed in frustration as he tried to bring out his claws; he wished he knew how he could bring out his claws, but he was barely used to having a tail, so he ended up just batting at Russia's hands with his paws. On the other hand, Russia was just smiling that creepy smile of his.

"You don't seem to have a collar, so I'll just keep you around until your owner shows up, da?"

_Fuck._ Prussia froze at the intimidating aura emitting off the Russian. _Just end my life now._

'''''''''

Spain skidded to the side as the janitor chased the other cats through the door. "[Wait!]" he called out as he saw the others run away. "[I don't think it's a good idea to sepera- Oh, they're gone. Oh well,]" Spain started to walk through the halls. "[I'm sure everything will be fine! But first…]" he started walking towards the direction of the cafeteria. "[Time to eat those churros Romano made me!]"

Skipping, Spain started to go his way to the cafeteria, happiness clear in his gait. "[Hm…It's rare for Romano to cook for me…I wonder why? I don't think it matters,]" Spain started to hum to himself as he started walking. "[I'm sure that whatever it is, it'll taste good!]"

"…But fratello, maybe he went back home? Or maybe he went out with Big Brother France and Big Brother Prussia?"

"Shut up Veneziano! That tomato bastard promised that he would eat these churros, and he damn well will!"

"[Romano? Italy?]" Spain started running towards the voices. "[I'm here! Boss Spain is down here!]"

Spain stopped when he found himself in front of the feuding brothers. Italy's brown eyes were closed, and he looked flustered as he argued with his brother, his brown hair and the stray curl on the left side of his head bouncing up and down as he flailed. Although dressed simply, he looked good in a striped dress shirt, green tie, and immaculate white pants.

On the other hand, Romano was irritated as usual. His amber eyes were crinkled, with his brown hair and the stray curl at the right side of his head barely moving as he argued with Italy. His tanned skin contrasted nicely with his bright teal suit and pink tie, something no doubt forced upon him by Italy. It was Romano who had noticed Spain first, with Italy still looking unsure from Romano's last comment.

"Hey, what's a stupid cat doing here? !" Romano looked at Spain with disdain. "I knew that brows bastard's place was bad, but I didn't think he'd let a flea bag in here."

"Cat? What are you…" Italy made a happy noise as he looked at Spain. "Ve! What a cute kitty! Here kitty, kitty, kitty!" He bent down and opened his arms as he called to him. Spain quickly walked to Italy, only to be stopped by Romano's foot.

"Idiot, that thing could be rabid," Romano lightly kicked Spain away from Italy, managing to surprise him. _With the way Romano's talking about me, I thought he'd kick me harder! Maybe he has a soft spot for cats?_ To test this, Spain started purring, and was delighted to see that Romano's sharp eyes had softened slightly.

"Awwwww, it's so cute!" Italy moved Romano's foot out of the way, allowing Spain to go to him. Italy immediately started stroking his back. "Can we keep him fratello? Please~?"

"Are you stupid?" Romano's contempt returned. "How are we going to feed him? Or clean him? It's already hard enough to take care of ourselves, let alone a cat as well!"

"But fratello..." Spain continued to purr as Italy stroked his back. "He doesn't have a collar, and he's so cute! Please~?"

"No! Now leave it alone!" Romano ordered, his voice sounding like the decision was final. "We're supposed to be looking for Spain anyways, _not_ picking up strays."

_No, don't leave!_ Spain started to think quickly as Romano looked ready to leave. _I don't know how to turn back to normal! I should at least be taken care of in that time! Plus, the Italies will be taking care of me! There are no other people I would want to take care of me! _Acting on instinct, Spain went to Romano and started rubbing his face on his leg, purring as he did so.

"See, he likes you already!" Italy sounded positively happy. "I say we should keep him!"

"Well…" Romano thought the matter over and sighed, bending down to the cat. Spain found himself staring at Romano's searching eyes. Something in him stirred, and he found himself lost in their amber depths. "I suppose…Fine!" Italy clapped in joy. "But I'm not bathing that thing!"

_Yes! Mission success!_ Spain let out one last purr and rubbed his cheek to Romano's cheek, causing him to turn a fiery shade of red. _Maybe being a cat is better than I thought…_

'''''''

England sat down until his heartbeat had calmed down. _I wonder why I ran? Maybe it's my cat instincts acting up… If that's the c__ase, I hope Flying Mint Bunny returns soon; who knows, I may end up permanently acting like a cat._ England shuddered at the idea of being stuck a furry feline.

_Where am I anyways?_ England looked around and found himself near the cafeteria doors. _I must have run quite a distance if I'm near the cafeteria… No matter. _He immediately cast away his worry. _ I'll just back track where I came from and see if Flying Mint Bunny has returned with the cure. After I've turned back into a human, I can simply use my powers to find the whereabouts of the other three and turn them back into humans before anything too drastic happens._

Content with his plans, England started to back track, but he suddenly heard the doors opening.

"Man, that was some good grub! I wonder if I can sneak some hamburgers during the meeting? Oh well, if it's the Hero, anything's allowed!"

_Well, speak of the devil._

England froze in his tracks and looked over his shoulder. Standing there was America in his favorite brown bomber jacket over a simple, white dress shirt with mahogany tie tied over it, with tan trousers to match the brown of his jacket. He held a hamburger in one hand and a paper bag in the other- presumably with more hamburgers. His dusty blonde hair wasn't combed despite today being such an important occasion, with his cowlick still sticking out.

_ Don't turn to your left!_ The sky blue eyes behind glasses were not looking in his direction, but if he turned to his left, who knows what would happen. _It would be a disaster if America found me; after all, this spell was meant for him in the first place, and having our positions reversed is rather embarrassing. _If he could, England would've sighed. _Maybe this is karma at work, but that doesn't matter now! If I can go quietly enough, maybe he won't notice me…_

England tentatively took a few steps forward, and once he figured that the American was still stuck in his hamburger paradise, he almost went on a full on sprint if he hadn't tripped himself. With a yowl, England fell face first on the floor.

"Are you okay Mr. Cat? !"

_Oh hell, everything's ruined now…_ England got back on all fours and turned to America, who had walked up to him. He bent down in front of him while placing his stuff to his side.

"You're not hurt, are you Mr. Cat?" America's voice was full of worry, and he seemed genuinely worried for England's- no, the cat's- wellbeing. "Hey... Are you lost?"

_Might as well play along._ England shook his head. _It's not like this can go worse for me._

"Woah, you can understand me?" England nodded, to which America smiled in reply. "What a smart cat…Well then," America looked serious as he interrogated England. "Where's your owner? Oh wait," he chuckled lightly to himself. "You probably can't answer that in a way I'll understand, huh? Unless you speak Alien of course, but I doubt you do. Hm…"

England considered running away, but something about America's sincere concern over him- no, him as a cat- made him reconsider. Meanwhile, America looked as if he suddenly had an idea.

"I know!" England let out a questioning meow as America picked him up. "I'll take care of you! You don't have a collar, so you may be a stray, so I'll keep you for now! Well…" he beamed at England. "Even if you do have an owner, I can't just leave you wandering around on your own; that just isn't hero-like! So Mr. Cat, what do you say?"

_Hm… _England tried to think as America smiled at him. _I know I should be looking for the meeting room to meet up with Flying Mint Bunny, but…_ He nodded to America's request.

"Alright then!" If possible, America looked even _happier_ than before. "Well, Mr. Cat, you'll be staying with me for the meantime! I suppose I should bring you to a vet first, just to make sure you're healthy and all…Hey, wait a minute," He took a closer look to him, close enough that they're faces were almost touching. "You look a lot like England…You even have his green eyes and caterpillar brows, how cute! Err, I mean…" Surprise probably showed on England's face; he hadn't expected to find that America thought his eyes and his eyebrows were cute.

"Wow, you look surprised…" America let out a sheepish chuckle. "Um, just ignore that then. Well," he immediately brightened. "I'm glad to meet you Mr. Cat! I'm sure we'll be good friends!"

_What have I done?_ England felt like shielding himself from the American's blinding joy. _I probably made things worse for me by saying yes…I suppose it won't be too bad to have him take care of me…_

"Mr. Cat, you're really warm, is there something wrong?"

_On second thought, maybe it is a bad thing._

'~'~'

"Master, I'm back!"

Flying Mint Bunny flew in through the window into the meeting room. He landed onto a table, feeling tired after having flown so much. In his hands was a light blue cloth bag tied with yellow string, with strange signs written in gold appearing around it every so often.

"The fairies couldn't come themselves since they were busy making meals for this strange little girl and giving her cooking skill, but I have their dust!"

He looked around, expecting to see the cat forms of his master and the others that were with him. He was surprised to find the meeting room empty of said cats, with even their suits gone.

_Where did they go? _Worry filled Flying Mint Bunny like a storm. _If I can't find them, how can I cure them?_ He sighed, trying to think up an idea on how to find them.

_I know! I can try to 'look' for them!_ Although Flying Mint Bunny was a magical creature, he didn't have that many powers, or at least, he had no idea how to use them. After watching his master do it a few times, he had learned how to 'look' for certain things or people if he knew their aura; however, he could only 'look' for said item/person in the general direction that they had gone, and could only clearly sense how long ago they had gone that way.

Concentrating, Flying Mint Bunny tried to 'look' for their auras; to his great dismay, he found that the auras of his master, the tanned man, and the albino man were very weak, meaning that they had left a long time ago. The strongest one was the one coming from the girly man had fought with his master a few hours ago, and even then that trail wasn't that strong.

_It's the best bet I've got._ Steeling his resolve, Flying Mint Bunny followed the trail leading to the girly man, hoping that he hadn't gone too far for him to follow.

* * *

Anyone spot the shout-out? I hope you liked it! I'll try to update soon, but things might happen, so…Anyways, please review if you can, and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of our crazy cat tale!

**EDIT:** Behold the block letters- shot. Anyways, America's last line of conversation is changed to be anatomically accurate, since Englandaru has pointed out that sadly, cats cannot blush, no matter how cute they would be if they could (I'm not the only one imagining Romano cat blushing, am I?)


	2. Francis, the Cat owned by, err, Who?

Thanks to everyone that followed/favorite/reviewed this story so far! I was pretty surprised, since this was a last minute story. I forgot to say the suits that the characters were wearing last update came from the Hetalia Uniform Guide, and it was the clothes they wore for the World Meeting (there might be a few tweaks to them, and I had to make up Prussia's). I have never taken care of a cat myself; the closest I have to that is when my cousin took care of strays, so I apologize if I get some (or a lot) of the cat care wrong, since I'm using the internet for that info. Ditto for the actual cat personality, although pay in mind that some of the things are wrong on purpose; since the nations are humans, they will naturally act out of the cat personality and like a human. Anyhow, hope you enjoy!

* * *

"[This might not be so bad.]"

France jumped onto the large bed, stretching on the Canadian flag comforter. Canada's room was quite quaint, almost like the nation himself. He lived in a nice, gray, two-story house, with almost all of the floors being hardwood. His room was simple, albeit with overflowing maple leaves, and it was a creative mixture of red and white. There was a door to his left and right, leading to the bathroom and his closet respectively, with a chair and a table with a telephone on top of it sitting next to the bathroom door.

"It's good to know that you like the bed." Canada chuckled behind him, still wearing the clothes he had worn during the meeting. "Kilakima usually sleeps on the bed with me, so there are no beds for pets," he plopped down beside France and began to stroke his back. "Although I'm sure that you'll fit in the bed along with me and Kirunama."

_I'm sleeping with Canada? …That's not usually how things go, but I'm fine with it._ France purred as he rose to meet the hand stroking his back. _Until that fool _Angleterre_ finds a way to turn me back, I might as well stay here. Although now that I think about it, this whole affair might be just a dream… A very realistic one, at the very least._ It was still hard to believe that he was truly a cat; the only reminders he had was that he couldn't open doorknobs, he coughed out hairballs a few times after grooming himself, and a few other things he'd rather not name, such as how he could not use the toilet anymore.

"I'm going to change now, if you don't mind," Canada got off the bed and headed for his closet, grabbing a white shirt, a blue sweatshirt, and jogging pants. France stared as he saw the Canadian head for the bathroom door. "Rilakuma, please keep an eye on him while I change."

"Who?" Kumajirou, who was on the floor next to the bed, turned to Canada as he said this, but Canada had already entered the bathroom, so it was unlikely that he had heard him.

_Hmm…_ France got ready to pounce. _I wonder how much Canada grew up since he was young…_ It was a waste not to; Canada had left the door opened a little, so if he pushed it a bit, he could get inside the bathroom. Getting ready to get off the bed, France froze as he saw Kumajirou staring fixatedly on him.

"[Um…]" France shied away from the bear's beady black eyes. "[Will you quit staring at me like that? I know that the _fantastique moi_ is very attractive, but you're not the type I am going for.]"

"Who are you?" He jumped as he realized that the polar bear was referring to him; he almost normally used that line for Canada. "You smell like that man, but that's impossible…"

"[What man?]" _This polar bear is creepier than I thought._ "[And how come you can understand me?]"

Kumajirou shrugged in reply. "I don't know why myself, but you speak in a language that even I can understand. It _sounds_ a whole lot like the Cat language, but you talk like the cats owned by other nations."

"[What's your point?]"

"My point is," Kumajirou's voice had an edge of impatience to it. "You are not an ordinary cat like them, but you are even more extraordinary for smelling _exactly _like that man. If that man was your owner, you would only have traces of his scent while retaining your own, but you smell like him completely…But that's impossible, because that man is a nation and you are a cat…Or at least," he narrowed his eyes at him. "Something that _looks_ like a cat."

"[Which man are you talking about?]" France's fur was on end, and he found himself walking to the other side of the bed. _Why do I have the feeling that he's on to me?_ Kumajirou's stare was unfailing, and he seemed to be even more suspicious of him now.

"That nation…" Kumajirou got on the bed and sat down on his hind legs. "His name was…France, I think," France felt the edge of the bed with his hind feet. "He sometimes visits my master, so I can recognize his scent. I don't mind him, but he was missing along with three others… Missing on the exact same day my master found _you,"_ Kumajirou was now in a predatory stance, almost as if he was going to attack him any second. "Now I will repeat my question: _Who are you?"_

France did the first thing that was on his mind; he jumped off the bed with an ear-splitting screech and started running for the door. Growling, Kumajirou ran after him, and the two started chasing each other through the room. It was when France tripped on a maple leaf that he found himself pinned down by the little-but-larger-than-him bear.

"You know," Kumajirou's voice was a menacing growl, completely the opposite of his normally sleepy voice. "I only tolerated you so far since my master was there, but you may be a threat, so you must be eliminated."

France gulped. _I didn't even conquer England before I die; at least let me beat him up one last time before I kick the bucket! _Just then, the door opened, and Kumajirou jumped back before Canada saw anything suspicious.

"Eh? Mr. Kitty, did you fall off the bed?" Placing his suit on a nearby chair, Canada picked France up, who was still spooked from his near encounter with death. "Poor thing. Here," he placed him on the bed, picking up Kumajirou as well and placing him next to him. France scooted a bit away from him, but the bear didn't move an inch. Canada, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice France's sudden desire to be as far away as possible from Kumajirou.

"That's better now, isn't it? Hm…I should give you a name first though, shouldn't I? I can't call you Mr. Kitty all the time…Wait, are you even a guy?" France scooted away before Canada could pick him up. _I have my pride!_ He thought, although in hindsight, just what _kind _of pride he had was left for speculation. He just nodded his head, hoping Canada wouldn't ask how a cat could understand him.

"You understand me? You must be special then, like Kunikiri," he smiled kindly and retracted his hand. "For some reason, you remind me of France; if he was a cat, I'm sure he'd be some sort of fancy breed like you. Hm… How about Francis for a name?"

France thought it over. _It's close enough,_ he decided, and then nodded his head in response. Canada chuckled in delight.

"That's decided then," he plopped down on the bed spread-eagle style, with Francis having to move out of the way to avoid getting hit. France walked up to his face, only to see that Canada had a thoughtful expression on it. "Although now that I think about it, France was missing during the meeting along with Spain, Prussia, and England, but I doubt he's in any real trouble though; if Spain and Prussia are also missing, then maybe they just blew off the meeting to go have some fun. Although why England disappeared while he was hosting the meeting is lost on me…"

Canada turned to France, a hand absentmindedly petting him. "We had to end the meeting early because we couldn't find him, although we wouldn't have if America wasn't so set in ending it. Hmm…" Canada stopped petting him, his hand on top of his head. "America looked really troubled for some reason though… But I suppose that's natural, since they are pretty close."

_Close? Ha! It's clear that those two have feelings for each other! _ France started to formulate several plans in his head. _Next time I see those two, I'll just go play matchmaker; it will at least get England out of my skin for a few decades._

"I'm jealous…" France's ears pricked up as he realized that Canada was still talking. "America's always noticed… He may not be well-liked by some, but at least people pay attention to him; how else would he have been able to end the meeting that easily," he let out a wistful sigh. "I'm always ignored, or even worse, mistaken for America. Ha!" France was surprised in the amount of bitterness in the Canadian's voice. "How can people get us mixed up? I clearly have purple eyes, and I'm nothing like America…" He sighed again then closed his eyes, removing his hand from Francis's head and turned again so he was facing the ceiling. "Even Kimaru gets my name wrong, and I'm his master…"

Canada turned to France yet again. "I wonder why I'm telling you this Francis? Maybe it's because you bumped into me, instead of passing through me like I was some ghost… Oh well," he smiled at him, but it was a smile completely filled with sadness. "It doesn't matter now, does it? You're here with me now, paying some attention to me, so that means somebody's noticing me, right?"

_Canada…_ France mewled in sympathy as pity filled up inside him. _I didn't know you felt that way…_

"It's getting late," Canada snapped him out of his thoughts. "I'm going to sleep a little, okay Francis? Feel free to sleep anywhere you want, although you seem to like the bed. Good night Francis…" He closed his eyes and seemed to be asleep in seconds. France poked him with a paw, making sure he was asleep; he was as still as a log.

_If you were this resentful of being invisible, why didn't you do anything to change it?_ France was used to sticking out, so it was hard to imagine a life in the background. _Better yet, why didn't you-?_

"You haven't answered my question." Kumajirou's soft voice startled him. He turned to the small white polar bear, who had somehow gone to the other side of Canada. France felt his fur go on end again, and fear started to flood back into him. "It doesn't matter now though; I'm too sleepy to do anything else today, and you seem okay," he yawned and then stared at France again, practically glaring at him. "Just don't hurt my master. He's a nice guy, even though he doesn't remember my name. I won't forgive you if you do something to hurt him," Kumajirou yawned again as he curled up next to Canada, falling asleep as fast as his master.

_He must really care about him, Kumajirou… _France suddenly felt respect for the bear, albeit still fearing him. He turned back to Canada. _Poor Canada..._ He pushed his nose to the sleeping man's, pressing lightly as to not wake him up. _You should have told your Big Brother all of this... I could've done something to help..._

'''''''''

France jumped into the new bed Canada had bought him earlier that day. It wasn't what he was used to, but he didn't mind it. It was literally a smaller version of Canada's bed, except it had an indent in the middle for France to sleep in. He almost managed to get Canada to buy him a blanket, but then he figured his coat of fur was sufficient. In front of him was a rhinestone studded bowl; it was filled with cat food earlier, but when Canada realized that France refused to eat it, he had emptied the bowl and kept refilling it with various cat foods until he quit, learning that France would not eat anything.

He purred his approval. _Not bad at all…_

Canada chuckled softly behind him. "You really like fancy things, don't you Francis? You're more like France than I thought; you even like the same foods as him! Although, now that I think about it," he crinkled his nose in thought. "How'd you even find the wine in the first place? I'm pretty sure wine isn't good for you..."

_For a cat, maybe._ France sat up in a dignified way. _But the magnifique moi needs his wine! Speaking of which, _he licked a paw. _I need to set my plan in motion; but first, _he cast a glance at Kumajirou, who was currently in Canada's arms. _I need to get that annoying bear to trust me._

"Now that I think about it, should I give you a bath?" Canada- yet again- snapped him out of his thoughts. "The vet said that I shouldn't give you too much baths, but I found you not too long ago, and I don't think you've had a bath recently..."

"[How rude!]" Canada's eyes widened at France's indignant meow; he may have decided to help the nation get noticed, but he would not stand for on being called…ill-scented. "[I'll have you know that I shower every day! Although...]" Canada looked even more surprised as France adopted a thoughtful expression in his face, his meows dying down to a serious tone. "[Ever since that fool England turned me into a cat, who knows what I smell like... Maybe a bath would be nice... After all, Canada's the one bathing me, so it shouldn't be bad~]"

"[I should eat you for dinner for that,]" Kumajirou's tone was as conversational as if he was merely stating the weather, but what surprised him the most was that Kumajirou wasn't speaking his normal English, but instead, he spoke in weird, growling like tones- he sounded almost like a bear. "[You're as bad as that man; at least my master managed to keep him in line whenever he visited.]"

France gritted his teeth- or at least, attempted to. _Patience; he'll trust you eventually. And as much as I dislike it, he's too essential for the plan; I can't ruin it now._

"Kirojiro, who are you talking to?" Canada looked at the polar bear in his arms, who looked at him in return.

"Who are you?" Kumajirou reverted back to his normal speech as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Oh never mind," Canada placed Kumajirou on the floor. "But that was weird; it was almost like you were arguing with me Francis. You're more humanlike than I thought."

"[That's because I _am_ human,]" France knew that Canada wouldn't be able to understand him, but that Kumajirou would. The little bear stared at him, eyes devoid of emotion. "[Not human _exactly_, but I'm a nation; specifically, the _très impressionnant France._]"

He looked at Kumajirou expectantly, ignoring Canada's confused gaze. To his great disappointment, Kumajirou did nothing other than stare at him, his eyes still empty. Breaking the silence that had developed between the three, the telephone rang with a high-pitched tone, hurting France's ears.

"That must be Japan!" Canada picked up the phone. Turning to Kumajirou and France- both of which had looked at Canada questionably- he started to blush faintly. "While the vet was checking Francis for anything wrong with him, I called my brother for someone who was good with cats. Of course, it took him a few seconds to recognize who I was, but he remembered in the end."

A shadow flittered in his eyes, but it was gone so fast France thought he had just imagined it. "Anyways, I asked him if there was anyone he knew who was good with cats, and he said that Japan might know a thing or two, so I called him," The shadow came back, reassuring France that what he saw earlier was real. "He didn't seem to recognize me either but…" He shook his head, and his happy attitude returned. "Anyways, he was busy at the time, so he agreed to call me later," he turned back to the phone.

"Hi Japan!" His smile turned to a frown after a second, but then it changed into a passive expression. "…Oh no, this isn't America, it's Canada… It's fine, I get that all the time," he laughed, but there was a hint of bitterness underlying it. "Yes, we've met before… I called you this morning too… If you still don't remember, I'm America's brother… Oh no, it's fine, you don't have to worry, I'm not offended… Anyways, I had a few questions about cats, and America said that you might be a good person to talk to…"

As Canada continued his chat with Japan, France turned to Kumajirou. "[See?]" He figured he looked a bit proud as he said this. "[I answered your question in the end.]"

"Your point?" Kumajirou sounded uncaring, although he admittedly wasn't hostile this time. "So you're France…What happened to the other three then? Did they get turned into pigs or something?"

"[I'll explain later,]" Although England being turned into a pig was a highly amusing thought, France had better things to think about. "[What's important right now is Canada.]"

"Who?"

"[Exactly!]" France paced around the bed. "[You heard him last night! He's tired of being ignored and he wants to get noticed! I would help him, but in my current form…]" France gestured a paw through his body. "[It seems impossible, _oui_?]"

"So leave the matter alone," Kumajirou yawned. "It's less effort that way."

"[No, I will not,]" he sighed. _This will be harder than I thought…_ "[Big Brother refuses to leave one of his cute former charges alone, especially if it is Canada.]"

"So what's your plan?" The bear sighed, a bored expression in his face. "I have a feeling that it has something to do with me, or else you wouldn't have answered my question in the first place, nor would you be telling me all this."

_This is my chance! _"[Obviously, Canada has no idea what I'm saying, so I can't give him advice, but…]" France's eyes twinkled. "[_You _can.]"

"How?"

"[Canada can understand you, and you can understand me, so while I'm stuck in this furry body, _you _will translate for me…]" France put on again his dignified pose. "[A brilliant plan, _oui?_]"

"Sounds stupid to me," Kumajirou sighed again. "This would all fall apart if I say no, and I'm honestly too tired to help you."

"[What? !]" Kumajirou clamped his claws on his mouth and turned to Canada, who apparently hadn't noticed anything. France batted the claw away. "[Don't you care about him at all?]"

"…" France made sure not to get his hopes up; Kumajirou didn't look like he'd say yes, but he at least looked like he was considering the idea.

"Francis, Kilimanjaro," Canada placed the phone down, causing the two's attention to be brought to him. "I might have to go for a while… Apparently, I still have some stuff to buy for Francis, so it might take a while."

_No!_ Panic filled France like a fire. _If he leaves, then I might lose my chance! _He glanced quickly at Kumajirou, who was frozen still._ Who knows the next time I'll get Kumajirou to consider the plan! If he leaves now, Kumajirou might lose interest and never help me!_

"You shouldn't go… Canada."

It was hard to tell who was more surprised, Canada or France. For once, Kumajirou had said something else to Canada than "Who?" or "Who are you?" …And he had remembered Canada's name.

"Kuma…jirou?"

And Canada had remembered his.

_That's it._ France switched his gaze from the two. _England must have knocked me out with that punch and is giving me delusions with his magic. Or I'm just dreaming. It really could be just a dream. But everything feels too real to be a dream…_

"Fran-…cis wants to say something to you," Kumajirou didn't look at either of them; he seemed to have gained a fascination with his feet. Meanwhile, Canada must have been too surprised that Kumajirou remembered his name that he simply nodded, not questioning how a polar bear could even understand a cat in the first place or that said cat wanted to say something to him.

"[Well…]" France gulped; dreaming or not, he certainly wouldn't forget this moment. Kumajirou relayed his words to Canada, whose eyes only widened in reply. "[For one thing, you'll never get people to notice you if you keep being passive.]"

"People to notice…" Canada's eyes reflected confusion like a mirror. "What are you…" His confusion suddenly cleared. "Last night… I've got to sit down," he sat down on the chair next to him. "I have to be dreaming… Taking advice from a cat… A _cat,_" he giggled, sounding quite crazy.

Kumajirou shrugged. "You regularly talk with a polar bear; it's not the strangest thing that's happened to you."

"[And that's one of the problems!]" France raised his vo- err, meow. "[Do you plan to live the rest of your life being ignored, with only a polar bear for company? Sure you've made international relations, but more than half of the time, nations can't remember your name!]"

"Francis," Canada managed a weak smile. "As much as I appreciate your concern, I'm honestly fine. Okay, so maybe being ignored isn't the best thing, but I've lived this long, and I can live longer being ign-"

"[No, you can't!]" Francis ran up and jumped at Canada's lap, startling the other man. "[And stop calling me Francis! I'm-]"

''''''

_Ha,_ Flying Mint Bunny flapped his wings tiredly. _This trail sure is long... Maybe I should've taken one of the shorter trails…_

Even though Flying Mint Bunny found flying between worlds to be easy, he always found flying through oceans to be exhausting. Maybe it was because all he saw was blue, and he always did get bored easily whenever he flew through oceans. That, and maybe he was tired because of how he had flown with all his might.

Flying Mint Bunny paused, sitting on the flowerbed outside the window of a nice, two-story house. His grip loosened on the blue bag in his paws; he flexed his paws a few times to get the feeling back into them. "Okay, one last 'look' and then I'll take a nap."

Concentrating, Flying Mint Bunny closed his eyes and 'looked' for the girly man. The result was so strong, his concentration broke and he found himself glued to the window.

_He's close!_ Twisting to look through the window, Flying Mint Bunny was delighted to see that his target was inside. The long-haired cat was sitting on a bed, with a polar bear right in front of him. Near the telephone was a blonde man who looked like the 'America' his master always talked about.

_Success! Now all I have to do is fly in there, sprinkle this dust on him, then onto the next cat! _

Closing his eyes again, Flying Mint Bunny prepared to fly, his bright mint green color fading until it was like he was invisible. _If I wasn't so tired, I could've flown in there in a snap… The least they could is open the window! That way, I won't have to use up so much of my energy…_ Sighing at his bad luck, Flying Mint Bunny grabbed the cloth bag and flew through the window, flying as if nothing solid was in his way. He immediately stopped concentrating, and his color returned back to him.

_Butterballs, what is he doing now?_ He watched as the cat he was following jumped on the America look-a-like, furiously yowling at him, with the polar bear repeating everything the cat was saying.

_Now that's a waste of time… Can't that nation understand what he's saying? _Flying over to him, Flying Mint Bunny cast the thought aside and opened the bag a smidgeon, spraying a bit of the dust on the cat as it jumped on the nation. A blinding yellow light met his eyes, distracting him from the gaze of a certain polar bear.

''''''

"-France! I'm France!"

"France? !" Canada's face immediately turned into a shade of red that would put his flag to shame. "What are you-?"

"Canada, you can't live life as a shadow!" For some reason, Kumajirou wasn't repeating his words anymore, but it seemed like Canada could understand him perfectly now. "You won't get laid if more than half the world can't remember your name! I can't let someone I care about live life alone!"

"France, please, can't you leave this matter later? Right now, you have to-"

"Listen to me!" Why did France suddenly feel roomier than he was before? Oh well, that wasn't important for now. "You said so yourself that you're tired of being ignored, but by the looks of it, you're not even trying to change that! This is why people ignore you!"

"France, I-"

"I'm not exactly one to talk, though, am I?" France leaned back, placing his arms- wait, arms?- to the side. "I haven't been spending much time with you, so I may as well be guilty like those that ignore you. But now," France looked at him, steely determination in his eyes. "I'm going to pay you back for taking care of me! It wasn't that long a time, but it's obvious that you would've taken excellent care of me; I can't let a person who takes care of their pets this well be forgotten throughout history! After all, a man who treats their pets right will certainly be a good lover!"

"France, that makes absolutely no-"

"_Mon amour,_ I am willing to do whatever it takes to get you remembered!" France placed both his hands on Canada's shoulders- wait, he has hands?- and looked him square in the eye. "You, at the very least, deserve that much."

"France, I," Canada took a deep breath, his face still an adorable shade of red. "Thanks. That means a lot. Really," he briefly looked panicked as France was prepared to start another lecture. "It really does. I mean, you got Kumajirou to remember my name, and I consider that a massive step. But…" his tone became tentative. "Do you really think nations will remember me with your help?"

"Of course," France snorted and pulled away from Canada. "You are talking to the country of love; if there is anyone more suited to teach you in the art of being noticed, it would be _moi_."

Canada laughed, a sound as rich as maple syrup. "You were always weird France. By the way…" He looked past his shoulder. "What happened to Francis? He was here a second ago…"

"I _am_ Francis," Canada looked at France again, understandably shocked. "Somehow, my dear friend _Angleterre_ managed to turn me, Prussia, Spain, and himself into cats. By accident- or by work of fate- I had wounded up with you. Although it seems," France looked at his hands. "That the spell has been broken, seeing as how I am human now. But…" he curled his hands into fists, relishing the fact that he had opposable thumbs now. He wondered how Prussia and Spain were doing. _Probably wandering around the streets of London or something._ "I need to look for the others; I have a feeling they are still stuck as a _félin_, and I'm worried for them."

"So _that's_ why you guys are missing," Canada seemed to have accepted the explanation with no questions- after all, he just saw his cat turn back into a human. "Well, if you're going to help me, I might as well help you, eh?" he laughed again, but this one was softer, like a sea breeze. "I'll help you look for the others… After all, it's the least I can do in return for what you're doing for me. Plus, I might already have a lead."

"Really?" France hadn't expected Canada to help, least of all, actually have something that could be of use.

He nodded. "I think I saw Russia holding a cat during the meeting- I should know, I was right across from him. But," he frowned as he tried to recollect the memory. "When we ended the meeting, the cat ran away, and Russia tried to follow him. After that, I helped America look for England and the others, but we went different ways, so I couldn't tell if America has a cat. I hope that helps," Canada looked nervous as he said the last part, as if he genuinely didn't want to disappoint France.

_Was he always this cute?_ France couldn't help but want to bring him home. _Shame he gets ignored so much… Well, with my help, that will hopefully change, but for now…_ He gulped as he realized what he had to do. "As much as I don't like it, it seems that we must give Russia a call."

"I'll go do that, but in the meantime," Canada's blush deepened and he looked away from France. "_Please_ place on some clothes France; it's rather awkward having you naked on my lap."

_How cute! _How could this boy go so long being ignored, being so cute like that?_ I just want to take him and bring him home~ Although, _he looked at Canada, who was still blushing furiously. _I still haven't figured out how much he'd grown. _"Ah, but what if I say no?"

'''''''''

Flying Mint Bunny almost fell when he heard that his next destination was Russia. He zipped past the window the minute he heard the America clone- _Canada_, apparently- say that another cat was with Russia. _But that's so far away!_ He complained inwardly._ Geez, can't I get a break? I didn't even get thanked for turning that girly man- I mean, France- back into a human! The nerve of some nations!_

Sighing yet again, he prepared to fly through the ocean again, unaware of the polar bear staring at him through the window.

_That's England's pet, isn't it?_ Kumajirou watched the mint green bunny fly away. _So he's the one who turned France back into a human… I should go thank him the next time I see him; it was annoying, having that France as a cat._ He let out a breath. _Oh well. Master…err, Canada,_ It was still weird to address his master as such- he was too used to saying "Who?" whenever it came to him._ Seems happy that France is back into a human, so I guess I really have to thank him now, don't I?_

"Kumajirou, what are you looking at?"

Turning to him, Kumajirou opened his mouth and said: "Who?"

* * *

*Facepalms* First time I've written a story from France's point of view, so it may not be the best. Sorry for the overuse of French words, but I read in the Hetalia Wikinet that France doesn't like English, so I figured he'd be the type of guy to use French a lot. Please correct me if I'm wrong, since I used Google Translate for it.

Anyways, please review if you'd like! I'm sure Kuma would like you to review, right Kumajirou? (I swear, he became one of my favorite characters to write because of this). Now that I think about it, how does a cat look like drinking wine? I'm sort of tempted to draw that actually, but I'll probably be lazy and forget… Anyways, I'll try to update as fast as I can, and I hoped you liked it!


	3. I may Dislike You, But I can't Leave You

Mother of Pasta, I'm not used to waking up with this much mail in the morning (Ok, it wasn't a lot, but it was plenty for me, _si?_) Hm… This'll be a tricky chapter in a way. Russia's a first for me, so he may or may not be accurate. Also, the languages may not be accurate since I used Translate, so please correct me if I'm wrong. Another thing; I completely forgot to factor in time differences (I usually write from chronological order, and I'm horrible with numbers whatsoever) so if the time differences does not add up…yeah XD Last note (I swear, I have the planning skills of a rock), all these chapters minus the first start from the time they got back from the meeting. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Prussia hissed and did everything he could to get out of the Russian's tight grip. He tried biting him (damn Russian had too thick a jacket), scratching him (damn claws wouldn't come out), and even trying to _tell _him that he wanted out (he knew damn well that Russia couldn't understand him, but he had to try, didn't he?), but nothing worked.

He had to resist the urge of shuddering as he was brought through the familiar white halls of Russia's mansion. Memories flooded back into him, and it took all of his will not to just scratch- err, paw- at the walls in a mad fury. He buried his face in Russia's chest, figuring that close contact with the Russian was better than having to see the place of his nightmares.

He heard a door open, and found himself put down into a soft, carpeted floor. Prussia did a quick scan of the room, looking for any ways of escape. In front of him was a huge bed with a royal purple comforter, and when he looked up, he was faced with a small chandelier. To his right stood an arched opening in the light blue walls, leading into a bathroom as large as the room itself. He walked over to the side of the bed; there was a bed stand there with a telephone on top of it, but that wasn't what Prussia was staring at.

_A window!_ Prussia curled his feet in excitement. _Window + Cat/Awesome Me= Escape! _He didn't care that the window was locked; he would figure that part out later. He ran to the side of the bed, trying to jump on top of it to get to the bed stand under the window… Unfortunately, Russia had seen him and had picked him up within seconds.

"Oh, is the kitty tired?" He sounded normal, but there had to be a reason why Prussia's fur was on end. "I suppose that's natural; the meeting was rather long, wasn't it? If Америка (America) hadn't ended it when he did, I would've. That reminds me…"

Russia sat on the bed, still holding Prussia in a vice-grip. "It seems that our fellow comrades England, France, Spain and Prussia were missing today. I wonder where they are," he moved a hand to pet Prussia, but he managed to squeeze a paw out to bat the hand away. "Well, it doesn't concern me, does it?"

He let go off Prussia, who immediately jumped off of him and landed on the floor. "Well then, I'll have to go change. Don't run away kitty," he looked at Prussia square in the eye, his violet eyes suddenly vulnerable. "You already tried to during the meeting, but it's a good thing I found you, da?" It suddenly switched back to its normal creepy aura. "And anyways, my other cat will be happy when he sees that he has another playmate. He disappears for a few days when there are meetings, but he should come back soon."

_I don't get this guy and the way he thinks,_ Prussia hissed something in reply, but he knew Russia didn't understand him. _It doesn't matter; I'll soon be with West and _away_ from this fucked up place._

"Take care kitty," Russia snapped out him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Russia walking to the bathroom with a handful of clothes. "I don't want you to get another scar."

_Scar? _ Prussia froze as Russia entered the bathroom. _The awesome me got even _more _awesome? Now this I have to see._ He looked around for a mirror. Oddly enough, there was a full-size one on the other side of the bed. Prussia walked to it, and was surprised to see that he did indeed have scars.

_As awesome as this body is,_ Prussia ran a paw through the scar in his left eye, enjoying how freakishly badass he looked. _I need to get back into my much more awesome _human_ body, and get the hell away from here. _He spent a few more minutes looking at the scar in his eye then twisted to take a look at the scar at the base of his neck._ In no particular order of course, although it would be nice if it was in that order._

"Ufu, I didn't know that kitty liked to look at himself in the mirror."

Prussia screeched and turned around, backing up until his back was pressed against the mirror. There, Russia kneeled down in front of him, wearing a white dress shirt, the color irritating Prussia since he had seen enough white when he had entered Russia (the country, not the nation). Over the shirt was a short, dark blue waist-length jacket with gray pants, the pants stopping at his ankles to show his exposed feet. Contrasting his dark clothes was his tan scarf, which was one shade away from being white.

"I should stop calling you kitty; maybe you'll like me better if I give you a name," Russia smiled as if he had been given a present, but there was something about that smile that seemed forced. "Hm… how about 'Gilbert'? I think France once said that it means something like 'bright promise' or something. It's a good name, da?"

_What kind of half-assed name is Gil- Wait…_ Prussia sat down, actually considering the name. _That actually sounds like a name worthy of the awesome me… I hate to say it, but that Russian's better at naming than I thought._

Taking his silence for a yes, Russia's smile widened. "Gilbert it is then. I should get you a collar with a name tag then, so everyone would know your mine."

Ignoring Prussia's frantic shuddering, Russia stood up and headed for the door. _I'm getting a collar. A _collar_! The awesome me belongs to no one! _If there was a more perfect chance to escape, it was when Russia was _finally_ leaving him alone.

Jumping on the bed, Prussia didn't notice Russia turn back to him. All he felt was a cold air through his back, and that was enough of a sixth sense for him. He turned to Russia, who was smiling at him pleasantly. "Are you going to try escaping through the window Gilbert? Well…" A shiver went across Prussia's back again; he didn't have to experience Russia's cold to feel as if he was dipped in ice water. "While you were looking at yourself, I locked all the windows more tightly, since I figured a smart kitty like you would've been able to unlock them the normal way." Prussia glanced at the window, which indeed have a lock on it.

_Fuck,_ Prussia looked at Russia, a new-found hate in his eyes. _Well then, I'll just-_

"And I'm sure even a smart kitty like you can't reach the doorknob, so I doubt you'll escape that way," Russia's tone still kept its conversational feel, as if he was merely observing an interesting fact. "Oh, and if you leave any…markings in my room while I'm gone…" he giggled, the sound coming off as high-pitched. "Well, you'll have to punished, da?"

_You know…_ Prussia continued to stare daggers at Russia as he closed the door. _Being a cat sucks._

'''''

"Ufu, you look so cute!"

_Kill me now!_ Prussia sat down on his hind legs, using his forelegs to try to remove the black leather collar around his neck. On the collar was a simple and shiny name tag, with Гилберт (Gilbert) engraved on it. It wasn't uncomfortable, but Prussia did _not_ want to spend his feline days as a property of Russia.

"Aw, you must love it so much!" Russia stretched a hand to pet him, with Prussia shying away from it. Looking slightly hurt, he pulled the hand back. "Well, what would you like to eat? It's a bit late, but I'm sure you might like something."

"[I'd rather starve to death than eat something that _you _gave me,]" Prussia snarled, trying to get all his venom in his meow. Russia looked faintly surprised, but for the most part, he looked delighted.

"Are you trying to talk to me Gilbert? How cute!" He continued to smile at him. "I'll take that as a no then. Do you want to sleep already? It's rather late, so I think that you'll at least be a bit tired."

"[Do you think I'm tir-]" Against his will, Prussia yawned. He had gotten tired while waiting for Russia to return with the collar, and he refused to sleep on either the bed or the floor; he just hoped that Russia would have an idea on where he could sleep, and that that idea didn't include Prussia sleeping with him.

"Ah, so you are sleepy Gilbert," Russia picked him up and set him on the bed. "Well, I only got you a collar today and some food, but I didn't bother to get you a bed since I'm sure you'll fit in with me."

_Kill. Me. Now. _He should've known that with his luck, _something_ like this would've happened. Prussia jumped off the bed, testing how soft the floor was. _The floor _has_ to be better than sharing a bed with him._

"I don't think you'd want to sleep on the floor," he looked up to Russia, who seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "For one thing, it's dirty, and I'm sure you wouldn't want me to give you a bath."

His eyes widened at the thought. He really didn't want to imagine how a cat was given a bath, let alone by Russia of all people. Grudgingly, he jumped back on the bed, but on the _far_ side of it.

"See?" Russia laid down, removing his jacket and setting it on the mirror. "You're fitting in already! Although, I forgot to ask you before I got you a collar, but…" he turned to him. "Do you have an owner? I found you without a collar, so I think you might be a stray," he laughed a bit. "Is it a bit weird, me asking a cat if he has an owner? But you're unlike other cats, so I think you can understand me."

_Just how stupid do you think I am?_ Prussia looked at Russia in disgust; it was as if he expected him to have the IQ of a rabid animal. _But if I say yes, maybe he'll leave me alone… Or better yet, return me to the meeting area!_ It was a crazy plan, but Prussia was sure he could figure out something to get back to Germany from England.

He started to nod his head 'yes', but found that he couldn't do so. _Wh-what's wrong?_ Prussia tried in vain to nod his head, but for some reason, it was stuck so that it looked like he was looking at his feet. _Just lie and say that you have an owner! Just lie and admit that somebody owns you!_

It was then that he knew he couldn't lie. Didn't he say- well, technically think- that he belonged to no one? He had too much pride to admit/lie that somebody owned him!

To his great misfortune, Russia seemed to have gotten the idea that Prussia was not going to say yes. "So you have no owner?" He reluctantly nodded yes to that. "Why didn't you just say so Gilbert? Now you're truly mine," Russia chuckled happily, the high-pitched tone returning.

_Gee, I wonder why I didn't tell the nation I hate the most that I have no owner? _ Prussia gritted his teeth as much as his cat body allowed him to, and moved away as Russia absentmindedly tried to pet him yet again. _Oh yeah; because he's a creepy nutcase that would've kept me until the end of the world if I had told him that I had no owner._

Russia sighed as he retracted his hand. Prussia lifted his head to see him look quite thoughtful. "Such a stubborn kitty… You remind me a lot like Prussia, you know?" He didn't seem to notice Prussia's surprised expression. "Always so haughty and stubborn… I always wondered what it would be like to break him..."

He cracked a small smile, but it fell a short while later. "He's strong that Prussia…Even when he's dissolved, he's still hanging around, acting as haughty and stubborn as ever…" he rolled to his back so that he was facing the ceiling. "And he's surrounded by a lot of friends because of that strength… I don't get why he says he's lonely; he's lucky to have so many friends…"

Prussia didn't say anything throughout the whole exchange. He watched as Russia close his eyes, falling asleep in seconds. _He really thinks like that?_ He walked a bit closer, than halted himself. _Ahh, it doesn't matter; until this spell wears off, I'd rather be by West's side than his._ He turned around, getting ready to pounce onto the floor. _It's a lock right? Maybe he placed his keys on that jacket…_

A sudden sound stopped him. "Don't go…"

He turned around, only to see that Russia was already fast asleep. _Ignoring that, I should really just go get those keys and- Oh, für die Liebe-!_ _(Oh, for the love of-!)._ Heaving a deep sigh, Prussia walked up to him and curled up on his chest.

"[_Once,_]" he all but snarled. "[I'm only going to do this _once,_]" he closed his eyes, falling asleep instantly.

'''''''

_The sooner I get out of here, the better._ Russia let Prussia go onto the bed, where he immediately curled up into a ball.

"Eh? You're tired already?" Russia sat down next to him. "Sure we spent a long time at the vet's, but I don't see why you're tired," he tried to pet him again- when will he stop doing that?- but Prussia managed to scoot away before he touched him. "Maybe I should've gotten you neutered when they offered…"

Prussia shivered, and it was _not_ because of the cold.

"But I wouldn't do that," Russia beamed at him while retracting his hand. "Even I'm not that cruel. So," he picked up Prussia and placed him on his lap. "What would you like to eat? You must be hungry after all."

Prussia shook his head. Cat food was not on the list of food he wanted to eat, and anyways, he had managed to swipe some food when Russia wasn't looking (it wasn't too difficult, but all he managed to get were a few pieces of bread before Russia noticed that he wasn't by his side while he was eating). Russia frowned, a somewhat odd look seeing as how he was smiling all the time. "I want to do something special for you, since you were so nice last night…"

Prussia snorted. _What I did was trivial; it's not something to get so worked up for_, he thought, not bothering to talk. Somehow, Russia managed to understand what Prussia meant by that one action.

"I still want to-" The doorbell rang, echoing through the halls from the distance from Russia's room to the entrance.

"That must be Ukraine," Russia stood up quickly. "She called me while the vet was checking on you and said that she wanted to visit for a while."

He looked back to Prussia. "This should be over quick," he walked over to the door. "Stay here, that's an order. Although..." he smiled. "I doubt you would've left in the first place."

Prussia bared his teeth at him as Russia left, who had left the door slightly open. _What is he talking about? I can leave anytime I want! _ Although admittedly, Prussia didn't want to leave for some reason, a reason that had nothing to do with Russia. _At all._ He just figured that he still needed some time to figure out a plan to get from Germany from Russia. Plus, he was ordered to stay, and having been raised like a soldier, he felt obliged to follow it. Seriously, he did _not_ stay here for the sake of that Russian.

He ended up pacing around the room, having nothing better to do. Boredom came easily to him when he was a human, and it came even faster now that he was just a cat. Cleaning was borderline impossible for him, and he doubted that a cat could do push-ups. .. Actually, he hadn't tried doing push-ups as a cat...

Going to the far side of the room, Prussia attempted to do push-ups. He got mixed results, but at least it killed time. However, he found a more interesting thing to do.

_What's this?_ After trying different spots to do push-ups, he found his hind leg stepping on a soft, yet warm material when he went in front of the bed. Looking at it, Prussia realized that it was Russia's scarf.

_It must have fallen off when he stood up._ Prussia thought, wondering how neither he nor Russia noticed it fall; he knew that the scarf was an important thing to Russia, and he doubted that Russia was so careless that he didn't notice it fall. _Well, it's no concern of mine._ So why couldn't he stop staring at it? _I don't have anything to do, so I might as well give it back to him… _Picking up the material with his teeth, Prussia walked past the door and into the hallway.

_Now then_, he looked left as right, daunted at how big the mansion was. _Where's the front door again?_ He didn't think his cowardice when he first came here would come back and bite him in the ass. Trying to remember the way, Prussia pretty much just relied on his instincts to lead him. It took him some time, but he finally managed to get to the entrance, seeing Russia and his sister with 'huge tracts of land' standing at the entrance hallway. _Okay, so all I'll do is give it to him, and then I'll go back._ Prussia started to walk forward, pricking his ears as he heard their conversation.

"... So is that all you came here for sister?"

"Oh yes," she was wearing a dark winter coat lined with red fur, with a matching hat to go along with it. "I'm sorry to have taken up your time, but it's been a while since I've last visited and- oh, is that a kitty I see?"

Prussia came up to the two nations as Ukraine said this. He didn't look up to Russia, already knowing that he had an astonished look on his face. _I didn't do this for you bastard_, he thought._ I just didn't have anything better to do._

"How cute!" Ukraine bent down in front of him. "Where'd you find him?"

"I found him wandering around the meeting building," Russia looked at Prussia quizzically. "So I decided to bring him home and take care of him."

"Really?" An expression of delight crossed her face. "That's good; I always worry about you, staying in this big house by yourself... You might get lonely you know...Is that the scarf I gave you he's holding?" Ukraine gently teased the scarf off Prussia's mouth, which he let go willingly. "You've kept it all these years?"

"Of course," Russia's voice adopted a fond tone. "It's from my dear older sister after all."

Ukraine laughed. "You shouldn't let Belarus hear you say that; she'd get mad at me to hear you say such a thing."

"I don't think 'mad' would the right word for it..." Russia shuddered slightly. "My scarf must have fell while I was going here, and he must've wanted to give this back to me."

"Is that so?" Ukraine looked intrigued. She picked up his name tag and read the inscription. "'Gilbert', huh?" She beamed at him. "You're such a good boy Gilbert."

Ukraine stretched out a hand and petted him in the head, taking Prussia completely by surprise. _Wait! I don't want to be petted! Although..._ He felt Russia stiffen behind him as he accepted Ukraine's hand. _This actually feels pretty good..._

"So tame..." she removed her hand then stood up. "I have to get going brother; I stayed here long enough," she stuck out the hand holding the scarf. "Here, you should get this back."

It took a while for Russia to get over his daze. "Ah," he accepted the scarf and wrapped it around his neck. "спасибо (Thank you)"

Ukraine smiled in reply. "It's Gilbert you should be thanking," she opened the wooden door behind her. "Прощай брат (Farewell brother)."

"До следующего сестра время (Until next time my sister)." He closed the door as Ukraine left.

"Shall we go back Gilbert?" Prussia felt his fur go on end. He looked up to see Russia smiling at him. "You weren't supposed to leave in the first place after all," Russia didn't wait for his answer and just started to walk back, not even looking back to see if he was following him.

Something in Russia's tone told Prussia that he should obey. He followed Russia through the hallways, oddly not saying a word at all; for some reason, he couldn't shake off the feeling that Russia was irritated.

''''''''''

They spent the rest of the day in silence, with Russia just doing paperwork in his study while Gilbert just stayed in his room, passing time by either exercising or attempting to clean. Other than his failed attempt to give himself am actual bath (an incident he really rather not talk about), the only other interesting thing that happened that day was when they tried to sleep.

Prussia jumped on the bed, glad that the awkward day was finally over. He watched as Russia lay down beside him, looking somewhat distracted; he didn't even notice Prussia scoot away from him. Eventually, he turned and stared at Prussia, as if he wanted to say something.

_This is getting too awkward; first, he can't leave me alone, and now it seems like he's avoiding me._ "[Me...err, ow?]" He asked, in an attempt to make a questioning mew to break the silence. Russia jumped a bit, and he seemed to have been broken out of his thoughts.

"You know Gilbert," he started, still retaining his distracted demeanor. "It's been some time since my sister last visited. She's usually too busy with matters of her own country, so she doesn't have time to visit me anymore…I was really happy when she came to visit…"

He rolled on his back. "Do you remember what she said? How she always worries about me being alone in this big house? It wasn't always that way. There used to be plenty of people here like Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia…" he smiled as if remembering a fond memory, then frowned soon after. "They all left eventually though…"

He traced something in the ceiling. "I always wondered why they left… Maybe they didn't like me? All I did were the things my boss told me to do…"

Prussia didn't know where this conversation was going (not that he cared anyways, but he might as well listen). He yawned, but Russia continued his talk as if nothing had happened.

"I wonder why everyone doesn't like me? I may be a bit…cracked under the centuries, but all I want is to live with everyone in a place filled with sunflowers…"

Prussia was starting to get where this conversation was going.

Russia chuckled and placed his hand down. "I must be really insane, getting jealous over my sister for being able to pet a cat…" he sighed. "Well, it's obvious that you don't like me either. I thought that you'd come to like me if I gave you some time, but it's obvious that you'll never warm up to me."

His chuckle started to turn into a laugh. "I know that animals don't warm up to their owners that easily, but I really thought that you were starting to like me… I wonder what I did to make you hate me this much; it's not like I mistreated you. I only just wanted you to like me enough so that I could pet you… Oh well," he stopped laughing, and then turned to Prussia. "Feel free to leave like them if you want; I won't stop you this time, just…" he smiled another forced, yet sad smile then stood up and walked to the door. "Do you mind leaving when I'm asleep? I've already seen a lot of people leave me, so I'd rather be asleep when you do," he opened the door, not really looking at Prussia.

The phone rang, interrupting Prussia before he could say (technically meow) something in reply. Russia went over to it and picked it up.

"Who is this?" Russia reverted to his normal smiling attitude in seconds. "… Eh, who? Oh, it's Canada. So what do you need…?"

Prussia looked at the open door for a few minutes, not moving an inch. He had to make a decision now; to escape… or not to escape? It wasn't that difficult a question, but…

He watched as Russia placed down the phone. "I wonder if I should have told him that I did have a cat, but he left, instead of saying I didn't have one…" he turned back to the bed, apparently not expecting Prussia to still be there. "Huh? Why are you still here? Don't you want to leave? You've been trying to all this time, and I don't see why you wouldn't; you don't like me anyways, since you don't let me pet you."

He kneeled on the bed, bringing a hand forth to pet him. Instinctively, Prussia moved away from him. Russia furrowed his eyebrows, not bringing his hand away. "I don't get it; why won't you leave? You're sending an awful lot of mixed messages comrade; you do things like curling up in my chest and giving me back my scarf, but then you let an absolute stranger pet you when I've been trying to this whole time. Also, more than half the time, you hiss or try to get away from me," he furrowed his eyebrows even more. "You seem to hate me, but when I give you the chance to escape, you don't take it. Why?"

Prussia didn't answer. Why _didn't _he leave? He had told himself earlier that it wasn't because of Russia, but now he wasn't so sure…

He looked up to see that Russia was still watching him, still confused. He saw that he still had his hand outstretched, as if he had forgotten that it was there. It was then that Prussia did the impossible.

"Huh?" Prussia felt Russia's hand stiffen on his head. "What are you…"

Cautiously, as if feeding a lion by hand, he started petting Prussia's head. As if choking out fodder, Prussia forced out purrs (_This is all a dream, this is all a dream, this is all a dream-!)_, although he was actually purring a few minutes later (he's never going to be able to live this down, is he?).

On the other hand, Russia looked like he was given the world. "So cute!" He picked Prussia up and placed him on his lap. He tentatively placed his hand on his back, as if unsure that Prussia was actually letting him pet him. When Prussia didn't move an inch, he giggled happily then started to stroke his back... Prussia hated to say that he didn't not enjoy Russia petting him.

'''''''''

Flying Mint Bunny fell in dismay as he saw that the cat with the scarf wearing man- probably Russia- was not his master. He watched as Russia stroked the white cat in his hands, looking positively overjoyed.

_When Canada said that there was a cat with Russia who had tried to escape, I thought he had meant my master! _ His wings started to droop, both from disappointment and fatigue._ Fish sticks; that means I used up my energy to speed up my flight for nothing…_

Flying Mint Bunny sighed and opened the bag he was holding. _ I might as well turn the white cat back into a human while I'm here...It would've been done eventually anyways…_

He flew over to the cat, stopping when he was directly over him. Tipping the bag a bit, he watched as the golden dust hit the white cat, closing his eyes for the yellow flash that followed.

''''''''''

_OH SHIT!_ Prussia stiffened as he realized that he was butt-naked on Russia's lap, fully human. _On the spirit of Old Fritz, why'd I have to turn back into a human now? !_

Both nations were stuck in a standstill, neither not knowing how to react. Finally, Prussia opened his mouth.

"Well," he got off of Russia's lap and faced away from him, face aflame with embarrassment. "Now that I'm human, I don't need to stay here anymore." He leaned forward on his hands, starting to get up from the bed, but then he felt an arm wrap itself around his neck.

"What in the-? !" Prussia felt his back press against Russia's chest.

"What happened to Gilbert?" Prussia heard the eerily calm voice close to his ear as he struggled to get loose of the tight headlock Russia had him on. "All I saw was a bright yellow flash and here you are with the cute cat I _finally_ manage to pet gone."

"I _am_ 'Gilbert'," No reaction. "Brows managed to turn Spain, France, himself, and I into cats; 'Gilbert' was actually me as a cat. I don't care how, but somehow I managed to turn back, so now I can go back to West."

Prussia tried to set himself free, but Russia had too tight a grip on him. "I'm sorry, but you lost that chance already comrade. That reminds me," Prussia felt the grip on his neck slacken. "Why didn't you leave?"

Russia moved his hand away; even though he was free, Prussia didn't move an inch. "Heh, how could I leave someone so pitiable? Getting jealous because you couldn't pet a cat and your sister could? Pathetic!"

"Kolkol," Prussia suddenly felt cold. "I should punish you for that, but you're still not done."

"Exactly!" Prussia laughed, but it quickly died down. "Remember when you said that I had a lot of friends? I hate to say it, but I feel lonely at times too, except you're less awesome about it."

"Get to the point Prussia." Although he sounded conversational, the air around him spelled out 'danger'.

"I'm not scared of you!" Prussia snapped, gathering up his courage to say the next few words. "You want me to get to the point? Fine; you're so pathetic that I figured you need some of my awesome. And anyways..." He really couldn't believe he was saying this. "I may not have been that nice to you, but I never said that I hated you. After all…" Seriously, his friends would never let him live this moment down. "It's hard to hate someone as pathetic as you."

Silence. This was about the only time Prussia hated his albino status; when you were as red as him, it tended to show on your whole body. Suddenly, he felt arms wrap around his waist.

"What are you doing you ba-?"

"So cute~" He felt Russia hug him from behind. "I just noticed, but you are still wearing your collar, so you are still mine, da?"

"What are you-" He felt for his neck; sure enough, the black collar was still secured around him, although it was slightly tighter. "Hell if I'm sticking around here! I need to get back to West and look for the othe-!"

"You've had plenty of chances to leave, but you didn't take them," Russia sounded childishly joyful. "As for the others, I saw the Italies with a cat, so you can go to your friends' aid later."

"With Ita? Even more of a reason to go!"

"Ah, but," he felt Russia's grip tighten around him. "Do you really think I'll let you go after you just admitted that you like me? Plus, you're already naked, so you can spend the time being one with me, da?"

...He really should have decided to leave.

'''''

_ The Italies?_ Flying Mint Bunny zipped out of the room. _But that's so near! What good luck! _He took a deep breath.

_Let's hope that it's master this time!_ He started to fly towards Italy, all previous tiredness gone.

* * *

Ah, finally done! Of all the ones I've written so far, this one had the most mental blocks for me! As I stated before, Russia's a first for me, so he's probably not that accurate (and I apologize if anyone got offended by the content in here; there may be no such offensive thing, but I'm getting paranoid). Anyways, hoped you enjoyed the update!


	4. What I Don't Know

SCONES ALMIGHTY, I'm not used to that much mail…. Anyways~ Thanks for all the people reading this! Forgot to mention that pretty much any architecture involved in this story, I looked up in Google Images or just made up (same goes for the clothes, although I usually go to their uniform guide for that). On that note, I'm glad that it's FINALLY the turn of nations I've written before… Hope you like it!

PS: Thank you Englandaru for pointing out the mistake in Chapter 1; it's relatively small, so if you already read the chapter, you don't exactly have to go back, but feel free to do so (it's more anatomically correct at the very least)

PPS: I have a poll now that I created out of sheer boredom. Feel free to vote on it in my profile :D

PPPS: This is not like the others. Enjoy~

* * *

Spain was set down onto the hardwood floor the minute they walked in the doorway. He found himself in a hallway bathed in light, with large windows on his side. A chandelier hung on top of him, and to his right and left, the hallway branched off into other parts of the villa the Italies lived in.

"Welcome to your new home, kitty!" Spain looked back to see a smiling Italy, a briefcase at his side. "Both Romano and I live in this big house, so we can take turns watching over you so you don't get lost! Although, I still have to watch over Gino…"

"Speaking of you idiotic cat," Romano closed the door, looking quite crossed. He was carrying a plastic bag, although Spain didn't know where he got it. When Italy had asked earlier, he just got made and waved it off. "Where is he? You didn't lose him, did you Veneziano?"

"Of course not!" Italy continued to smile. "He disappears for a while during meetings, but he comes back after a few days. I think I even saw him holding a meeting with other cats before!"

Romano scoffed, but he looked more relaxed now with that answer. "That's stupid; cats aren't that smart."

His brother simply shrugged then turned back to Spain. "So! What would you like to do first, little kitty? Although I suppose I should give you a name first, since calling you 'kitty' all the time is pretty mean."

"A name?" Romano scowled. "We can't give it a name! Its owner might come back for him, and we- _you_, might get too attached to it to give it back!"

_That's mean, Roma,_ Spain sat down and pouted slightly. _I'm not an it… But is he really worried about being attached to me? Awww, Roma likes cats, how cute!_

"Eh, but fratello, he doesn't even have a collar, so he's probably a stray…"

"Idiot," Romano sighed. "Strays do _not _end up impeccably clean, have no rabies, ticks, fleas, _or_ happen to be perfectly declawed; even the vet agrees that he's too well-taken care of to be a common stray. Someone was _bound_ to have owned him before."

"Well, he's on his own now," Italy picked Spain up. "And I doubt you're as cruel as to let him die in the streets. So," he looked Spain straight at the face. "From now on, you are Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, terror of the seven seas! You will have masses of riches, a loyal crew, a-"

"We're naming a _cat_, Veneziano, not a pirate," Romano sighed exasperatedly. "How'd you even think up of a name like that anyways?"

Italy gave him a knowing smile. "Because Antonio is a name that seems to fit him. The thing about pirates is something I picked up in this picture book I saw while I was shopping at Japan's place. I don't know why those girls were giggling and blushing; it was only some guy in a pirate suit… Say, wasn't Spain a pirate before?" He looked at Romano, a slightly mischievous air to him. "I wonder what _he'd_ look like as a pirate… I suppose a nice hat, a fancy red coat, a ponytail, a really large axe…"

"That's oddly specific Veneziano," Romano narrowed his eyes at him as Spain stared at Italy with surprise. _Since when did Italy-?_ "I don't remember you ever having such a clear memory of what Spain used to wear…"

"I don't really," Italy set Spain down and started walking through the halls; about halfway through, he turned back to Romano. "By the way Romano, you really shouldn't put yourself down so much. You're shading skills are splendid, and I think you caught the light perfectly," he walked away, a light skip in his step. Spain looked back at Romano, who seemed to be stunned.

Confusion clouded his eyes, but it took only a second for it to clear away. "That son of a-" Romano's face was red, and his cheeks were a bit puffed up. "GET BACK HERE VENEZIANO!" He ran after him, evidently forgetting about Spain.

Spain stared after them, unsure of what just happened. _I wonder what they were talking about?_ He followed Romano, deciding that it was better not to get lost. _Oh well, I suppose it doesn't matter! _He hurried ran after them, a huge smile on his face. _ I'm finally achieving my dream of living with the Italies! Things can't get any better than this!_

'''''''

Spain purred as Italy stroked his back, his paws tucked under him as he sat on the Italian's lap. Their room was pretty simple- white walls, a large four-poster bed, two windows with wooden shutters on both sides of the bed, a small desk with the top opening and drawers, a wooden closet at the side of the room… In truth, Spain liked that it was so simple; compared to the rest of the house, this was like seeing a familiar childhood toy amongst DS's.

"So I looked a bit at one of your sketchbooks; so what?" Spain looked up at a pouting Italy. He had changed from the suit he wore from the meeting into a pink tank top with blue shorts. "It's your fault for laying it around where anyone can see it…"

"I did _not_ leave it lying around," Romano- who had been fuming the whole day nonstop- removed his dress shirt, the jacket he had just taken off hanging at the closet door, to put on a black tank top. His plastic bag was at the side of the closet door, next to Italy's briefcase. "There's no way you just _happened_ to find a book that's under lock and key, especially since I have the key with me at all times."

"Actually," Italy smirked and turned to Romano, his full attention now on his brother. He still had that mischievous air he had on earlier that day, an air that Spain was unused to seeing. "You fell asleep in the study one day while you were drawing; I was only curious, so I took a look at it… and maybe a few others as well, since I saw them lying around you too." He turned back to Spain and continued to pet him. "Would Antonio like to see the pictures as well? Fratello really knows how to bring out Spain's good side, and he seems to be fascinated for some reason with his bu-"

"Veneziano," Romano's voice was completely flat, and it wasn't hard to tell that he was giving his brother a death glare. "Shut up or face hell. And anyways, you make it sound like I draw Spain all the time; I draw other people too! Like Belgium, you, turtles…"

"Yeah, but you seem to mostly focus on Spain…" Italy set Spain next to him. "You know Antonio, I've counted exactly 3,500 out of 5,000 drawings that Romano has done that featured Spain. Would you like to see them?"

"Idiot!" Romano threw a comb at him. He sat down next to Spain, now also wearing blue shorts. "It's only 35,000 out of 50,000! I-I mean…" Romano blushed as Italy gave him a triumphant look. "It's not that much, you bastard…" Even he didn't manage to convince himself with that excuse. "Fuck, so _maybe_ I draw him more than normal, so what? ! He's almost always with me, so it's natural that he'd be the easiest one to draw!"

Spain stared at Romano with wide eyes. _Romano draws? I wonder why he doesn't show them to me… They're about me, so I might as well see them; plus, Boss wants to see his cute former henchmen's drawings!_

Romano looked away as he realized that Spain was staring at him. "A-and why do you keep calling that cat 'Antonio'? It's too long!"

"And 'Veneziano' isn't?" Italy laughed. "Just call him Antonio! He doesn't seem to mind, and I think he's itching to hear you call him 'Antonio', right Antonio?" Italy looked at Spain expectantly, who eagerly nodded yes. "See fratello? You're outnumbered 2-1!"

"Hmph!" Romano laid down on the bed, his arms spread. "If it makes you shut up for all of eternity, then fine. _But,_" he glared as Italy did some sort of happy-jump-clap thing. "I still think it's too long, so I'm just calling him 'Toni', capisce?"

"Even better!" Italy's smile broadened. He looked down at Spain. "Look Antonio, fratello likes you enough to give you such a cute nickname!"

"Idiot, I don't like that cat," Romano answered quickly, as if it was a reflex. "And anyways, shouldn't you feed him? I doubt he'd already eaten when we found him, and I don't want to be labeled as a 'cat murderer' when he starves."

"Hmm, you're right…" Italy tipped his chin up with his finger. An 'I've-got-an-idea' look showed on his face when he next looked at Spain. "How about some of Gino's food? I still have some left over..."

_Does cat food taste good? I'd rather not find out… I'd rather a tomato or something… Or those churros Romano made for me. _Spain shook his head, hoping that Italy got the message.

"Oh, do you not want that?" Italy frowned slightly. "Well, how about some of Romano's churros? They're in my briefcase, so I can just-"

"NO!"

Both Spain and Italy jumped, Spain with his fur on end and Italy with frightened shivering. Romano was suddenly sitting up, a wild expression on his face.

"Don't you _dare_ touch them, North Italy!" Even Spain was surprised when Romano didn't use his normal 'Veneziano' and instead used his full title. "Those are for Sp- I mean," he flinched a bit, as if realizing what just happened. His voice suddenly turned back to its usual scathing tone. "Are you dumb or something? I doubt that churros are good for a cat."

_So I can't eat them, even if those were meant for me?_ Spain felt disappointment sink into him. _Shoot, and I was looking forward to them… But what just happened with Romano just now? He looked really upset…_

"Haha…" Italy laughed tentatively, probably unsure how to react at Romano's sudden switch of temperament. "I suppose you're right… Well, it seems that Antonio will have to wait until morning for his food then, since he doesn't want to eat Gino's food. I'll go over to Austria's place tomorrow and see if he can give me some cat food, since Gino sometimes goes to his place, but I'll have to pass by Germany's house first."

"What do you possibly need to do in that potato bastard's place?" Romano scowled, back to his normal disposition. "It's out of the way going to Austria, and I don't like him."

Italy instantly perked up. "Austria sometimes goes to his house, so I can check if he's there. Plus, Germany owns a cat too, so I can just get food from him instead of going all the way to Austria's place! And Germany's fun!"

"That doesn't make _any_ sense whatsoever Veneziano; Austria's place is closer," Romano laid down on the bed again. "Fine," he finally said, as if he knew this was a losing battle. "You can go there, but if that potato bastard tries anything, he's dead."

"Ve, but Romano~ If something happens to Germany, I'll be upset!" He flailed his arms up and down for emphasis. "I wouldn't like it at all if someone that close to me would suddenly disappear!"

"…" Spain tilted his head, wondering why Romano was suddenly silent. _It's not often that Romano's this quiet… Did something just happen?_

"Fratello?" Italy looked worried, as if he had done something wrong. "Romano?"

"Veneziano, it's late," Romano covered his face with an arm. "Turn off the lights, I want to sleep."

"Huh? !" Italy looked stunned. "But we still haven't decided where Antonio would sleep!"

"On the bed or on the floor, his choice," Romano snapped. "Just close the damn lights, will you Veneziano?"

"[Romano!]" Spain stood up and hissed slightly. "[Don't be so mean to your brother!]" However, neither of them seemed to pay any attention to him.

"O-okay…" Italy looked genuinely confused. "I'm sorry…" he called out softly as he stood up and turned off the lights. "I don't know if I did something wrong, but I'm sorry…"

"Just go to sleep Veneziano," Romano heaved a deep sigh, then turned to his side. "You did nothing wrong."

"If you say so," Italy turned off the lights, his voice dripping doubt. Spain saw him go back to the bed, turning the other way from Romano. "Good night Antonio… Good night fratello…"

"Yeah, yeah, good night," Romano said shortly after. They stayed like that for a while, tense and still, until Italy's body visibly relaxed, sure proof that he was asleep.

_What just happened? _Spain moved from where he was and went to the space in between them. _Romano was acting really weird earlier… Is he troubled by something?_

He looked at the older Italy brother, who was still facing the other way. It wasn't until Spain really focused that he realized that Romano was shaking slightly, completely awake.

"[Roma…?]" Spain mewed, the sound quite loud in the silent room; despite that, Romano didn't even seem to notice. He tried again, but Romano still didn't answer. Soon, his shakings stopped, but when Spain repeated his question, Romano paid him no mind. Eventually giving up, Spain curled up close to Romano, hoping that it would at least comfort him from whatever sadness he was feeling. He closed his eyes, exhaustion from the long day suddenly catching up to him.

Before sleep caught him, he could've sworn he heard Romano say "Spain you bastard…where are you?"

'''''

Spain woke up with Romano fast asleep, and Italy nowhere to be found. Where he used to be was replaced with a short note, which read "Fratello,if you're reading this, it means that I've already left for Germany's house. I'm sorry, but I could tell you had a hard time sleeping last night since you kept getting up, so I decided not to wake you. Anyways, there's some leftover pasta in the fridge if you're hungry, but I know you can cook some of the tomatoes we have for a meal. Make sure Antonio gets something to eat! Although that was the issue wasn't it? Hm…just feed him something he'll like and is healthy for him! I'll probably be back later in the day, but if I don't come back for some reason, I'll be at Germany's place."

Spain turned to Romano after he read the note. _I should probably wake him up and tell him that Italy left already… Knowing Roma, he'll probably get mad if he doesn't know right away._ He placed his two front paws on Romano's shoulders and shook him.

"[Romano,]" Spain kept on shaking him, but it was awkward with a cat's body. "[Wake up…]" He looked at the nation's face to see if he had at least opened his eyes, and was stunned by what he saw.

For a man who made scowling his default expression, it was startling to see him so peaceful. Spain couldn't help but stare at the calm expression at his face. _Wow, Roma's so quiet and calm…_ He could probably count the number of times he'd seen Romano like this on his fingers…well, if he had them anyways; he always saw Romano angry, irritated, or any number of expressions other than this one. _It'd be cuter if he was like this more often…_ But there was something wrong. Despite the tranquil appearance, tear stains ran through his cheeks, and Romano was clutching the pillow too tightly; it was like someone had broken a priceless record and glued it back together.

_ I wonder what made him sad… _He didn't know how long he just stood there staring at Romano's sleeping face; he even managed to forget what he was doing in the first place. All too soon or (or was it many centuries later?), Romano's eyes fluttered open, and he turned to look at Spain with half-lidded eyes.

"Huh…?" Romano stared back at Spain. "What are you doing here Toni…? Where's Veneziano?"

That was enough to jolt Spain back into consciousness. He got off of Romano and walked back to the note, turning back to see that Romano had turned so that he was facing him.

"A note…?" He sat up and picked the note up, his eyes becoming alert the minute he read it. "Damn it Veneziano, why didn't you wake me up before you left? Screw my sleep, you shouldn't just get up and leave like this! And what the fuck do you mean by 'if I don't come back for some reason, I'll be at Germany's place?' To hell with that! He's not going to be with that potato bastard a _second_ more than he needs to be! And what the fuck does he mean, 'if I don't come back for some reason'? !"

He looked back at Spain, as if remembering that he was here. "What are you staring at?" he snapped, but then took a breath. "Sorry… I suppose it's unfair to take this on a cat, isn't it?" He stood up, apparently not noticing Spain's surprise that Romano was actually apologizing, something he didn't do often unless he _absolutely_ had to.

Romano sighed then picked up Spain, looking at him without really seeing him. "I guess I should get you something to eat now, shouldn't I?"

'

"Damn it, there's only pasta here…"

They were standing in a spacious dining room, with Spain being on top of a rectangular dining table, three white cushioned chairs on his left, right, and front. Again, a chandelier hung above him, and behind him stood a glass door overlooking the gardens. Romano was leaning inside a refrigerator at the kitchen next to the dining room, the two rooms being connected. The stove, cabinets, and other such things were lined up so that it looked like it formed a sideways L, with the refrigerator at the top of the L. In front of Spain were a bowl of tomatoes which Romano had taken out for himself a while ago.

"Sorry Toni, but I think you might have to wait a while and- Hey, what are you doing with those tomatoes? !"

Romano walked up and took the tomato out of Spain's paws. He was sitting with his hind at the table surface, his tail hung up so he wouldn't sit on it, and was holding the tomato with his front two paws- in short, he was sitting like a human and eating like a human as much as humanly possible for him.

"I leave you alone for a minute, and you're already doing something weird…" Romano took a look at the ravaged tomato, then at the tomato juice dripping off Spain's mouth. "Damn it Veneziano, I've never taken care of a cat before…" He took the bowl then threw away the tomato.

"[My tomato!]" Spain mewed in anguish. "[Noooo, not the tomato! Why did it have to be the tomato? First you don't let me eat your churros, and now you won't let me eat tomatoes? Don't torture me like this Roma!]"

"Shut up," Romano had an expression that was the mixture of irritation and 'What-the-fuck-is-happening?' at Spain's attempt to talk to him. "I don't even think this is healthy for you… Even if it is, these are my tomatoes, so lay off!"

Spain pouted. _But I want the tomato…_ He just looked at Romano, hoping that he was a cute enough cat to convince him. It didn't take long for Romano's face to soften.

"Ahh…" He let out a breath and took out a tomato. "Stupid cat… Don't make that kind of face…" He walked up to him and held out the tomato. "_Only_ this once, but if you get poisoned, don't blame me, you're the one who begged for it…" He sighed as Spain accepted the tomato, taking it in both paws.

"You're a weird cat, you know," he said as he watched Spain bite into a tomato. "You eat like you have hands, you seem like you understand everything Veneziano and I say, and you seem to try to talk to me sometimes. It's almost like you're a human…" He placed the bowl down next to Spain and petted his head. Spain purred as Romano ran his hand over his ears.

"So cute…" he blushed immediately after he said that and took his hand away. Spain looked at him questioningly, wondering why he suddenly stopped. "Err… sorry, I'm not used to saying that on a regular basis… And stop looking at me with that stupid expression, you're starting to look like Spain."

"[That was a bit uncalled for…]" Spain meowed, but again, Romano didn't seem to be paying attention to him.

"Speaking of Spain, I wonder where he went…" Romano looked at Spain, but it was like he was talking to himself. "He's been gone for an awfully long time… I wouldn't put it past him to blow off the meeting with his friends, but even this is unusual for him… N-not that I'm _that_ worried in the first place of course!" he said sharply, apparently talking to Spain now. "It's just that-"

The sound of the doorbell interrupted him. Romano stopped talking and ran like a madman towards the door, as if something had suddenly possessed him.

_Romano? !_ Spain jumped off the table and ran after him. They kept running until they were at the front door. There stood Italy wearing a loose tan shirt with a drawstring closure and dark pants and Germany, who wore a white dress shirt and long brown trousers, both of which were holding bags of cat food.

Italy placed down the bag of cat food he was holding, not noticing both Romano's and Spain's presence. "Ve~ Thanks Germany for helping me bring the cat food; I don't think I would've been able to carry it all!"

"It's fine Italy," Germany kept hold of his two bags. "Knowing you, you would've taken forever to bring these here and- Oh, hello Romano."

Romano, who had been frozen still, suddenly narrowed his eyes in anger. "Veneziano, what the hell is _he_ doing here? ! And what took you so long? With you driving, it should have taken half the time you spent to get here and back!"

"Ve, but fratello, it took some time to get past Switzerland without getting shot, and when I got to Germany's place, I got distracted by playing with the dogs…" Italy tilted his head in confusion. "But Romano, what are you so worked up for? I wasn't out for that long, and Germany's a nice guy…"

"Do you think I care if that potato bastard's a good guy? !" Romano screamed furiously, the calm he had shown Spain earlier completely gone. _Roma…? !_ "What would've happened if you disappeared too? !"

"Eh, disappeared?" Italy's perpetually closed eyes expressed surprise somehow. "How would I disappear?"

"I don't know!" Romano threw his hands up. "You said in your note 'if I don't come back for some reason…' as if you were going to disappear! It's bad enough that Spain is missing, but I don't need you gone too!"

"But fratello, Spain's only been gone for about a day," Italy sounded totally bewildered. "I'm worried about big brothers France, Spain, and Prussia too, but Germany says that they're probably safe somewhere and that they'll come back soon."

"I don't care what he says!" He yelled. "You just don't get it Veneziano! They're-!"

"Romano, calm down," Germany's voice was low and soothing. "There's no need to yell at Italy. I know that bruder and the others missing is an alarming topic, but they've only been gone for a short time. I doubt that they are in any real ha-"

"Shut up!" Romano seemed to have totally lost it at this point. "All of you, just shut up!" He turned around and started to run.

"[Romano!]" Spain called out for him at the same time as Italy and ran after him. He chased Romano through the wooden halls of the villa, only to finally follow him into their room. Romano opened the door harshly and was about to close it, only noticing Spain when he almost slammed it into him.

"Shit, what are you doing here? !" Romano tried to push Spain away, but ultimately failed. "Damn cat…" he opened the door and let Spain in, closing the door behind him. He plopped down on the bed spread-eagle style and stayed like that for a few minutes, an arm over his face.

"[Romano…]" Spain wasn't sure whether or not he should go up to him. "[I don't know what just happened, but you shouldn't have talked to either Ita or Germany in that tone. Is something wrong?]" Spain knew in the back of his mind that Romano didn't understand him, but he couldn't just sit there and do nothing!

"Heh," Romano chuckled under his breath. "I must be going crazy… First I scream at my brother, and now I think a _cat's_ consoling me…" he let out a deep sigh. "I should probably apologize to him later or something…"

He removed his arm then sat up with his right arm on his knee, his hand holding his head up. Spain decided that it was a good time to go to him and walked up to him; Romano blankly looked at him as Spain stood up on his hind legs and placed his front paws on his leg. "I know I'm probably worrying over nothing, but I can't help it…"

He sighed again. "Ever since I was young, everyone always preferred Veneziano over me. Hell, everyone addresses him as 'Italy', as if he's the whole thing instead of being the northern part of it. I wonder myself too, why I haven't disappeared yet, but if that Prussia or whatever-the-hell-his-name-is is still around, it makes sense that I'm still here despite Italy being unified," he laughed, a cruel expression in his face. "It seemed like nobody cared much of 'Romano', the southern part of Italy." He looked to the side. "Even Spain prefers Italy over me."

"[Romano, that's not-!]" He was interrupted by bitter laughter.

"Stupid bastard, why'd you keep me even though you liked him better? ! Why'd you take care of me when I was nothing special? ! Italy was the one who could draw, paint, clean, so why'd you keep _me_ of all nations? ! You said so yourself that I should be more like him! So why'd you still keep me after that? !" Spain was astonished to see that Romano was crying. "Stupid, stupid, stupid-!"

"[Romano!]"

Despite not knowing what Spain had said, Romano seemed to have gotten a hold of himself when he heard him. "I must seem really pathetic to you, don't I Toni?" He wiped his eyes with an arm. "I sound like a fucking idiot…"

He sighed again then looked at Spain. "You know, you remind me a bit of Spain, trying to comfort me like this... Ha! I must be really going over the deep end, pining for him like this… I couldn't even sleep last night 'cause I kept expecting Spain to call me and tell me that he's alright!" He let out a short, bitter laugh. "You know what's sad? When that doorbell rang, I thought it was Spain for a second since I was talking about him. Instead, I get Veneziano and that potato bastard," he smiled acridly. "I think I lost it when I saw them instead of Spain. That's probably an understatement…"

He suddenly picked up Spain and set him on his lap. Spain looked up to see Romano solemn, the crazier aura around him now gone. "Normally, I wouldn't be this upset, but…" he took a long breath. "He may be an idiot, but he tries his damnedest to keep his promises. That's why when he didn't show up for those churros like he promised, I knew something was up. I figured that the bastard probably forgot about it, so I went to look for him to give him a piece of my mind. But when I didn't find him, and when we went back to the meeting to find out that he and three others were missing, I felt a bit scared," he bit his lip. "On a normal day, he would've told someone where he went if he went out with his friends; even if he forgot or got drunk or something, he would tell someone the minute he could about what happened and apologize when they get mad at him for it. I suppose that a day and a half might not be enough time, but then…"

He looked at the plastic bag near the closet, right where he had left it last night. "You know how we were looking for the missing after the meeting and how you went with Veneziano?" Spain nodded, remembering how he had gone with Italy in hopes of running into the other cats while Romano went another way. "Well, while I was looking, I tried calling Spain on my cellphone. I was surprised when I heard his ringtone and that it was so near. I followed the sound, hoping that Spain was there, but then all I saw was a trash can with clothes on it. The first thing I thought of was 'Who in their right mind would throw their clothes away?'" he let out a small smile before continuing on. "When I looked through the clothes, I recognized that Spain's clothes were there, along with his cellphone."

Spain's eyes widened. _Oh yeah! When we were turned into cats, our clothes must have been left behind… Someone must have thrown them away when that janitor chased us out! _ He pricked his ears as Romano continued. "I knew something had happened by then. France might be the type to go streaking, but even he isn't stupid enough to do it in a meeting…" He reconsidered the thought. "Actually, he probably is, but I doubt that any of the others would…" Now he reconsidered _that _thought. "Okay, they might, but I know for sure that France would have streaked where everyone else was just to annoy the hell out of us."

_Actually, he would've tried to get everyone else to streak with him, but that sounds like something he'd do too._ Shaking his head, Spain focused on what Romano was saying. "I don't know what happened to them, but I decided not to tell anyone else about them. For all I know, I could've been mistaken, so I decided to give them a little more time... And if I told Veneziano that I found their clothes in the trash, he would've lost it, so I decided to keep it a secret and wait a day or two, hoping they'd show up and the whole thing was just them blowing off the meeting to do some weird shit… The whole time, I was worrying my head off with what might have happened to Spain, so I guess it just finally got to me a while ago."

He placed both of his elbows on his knees then covered his face with his hands. "I know he's a nation and that he could take care of himself, but he's a fucking idiot. Who knows what mistakes he could make? Now he's missing and who knows what the hell happened to him…"

_Romano…_ Spain mewled as Romano took him off his lap and set him beside him. Romano stood up then looked at him.

"I wonder why I'm telling you all this when told you a while ago that I wasn't worrying about him?" Romano smiled sadly. "I suppose I just need someone to vent to, even if it's just a cat," he walked over to the door and opened it. "Man, that took a long time…Veneziano's probably whining to Germany about how he made me mad or something. I should go tell him already that he did nothing wrong and that I just have a few things on my mind at the moment."

He paused as he opened the door, then finally turned back to Spain. "You know, it's times like this when I wish that Spain took care of Veneziano instead of me. If he had, all those things that he did for me back then- protecting me from the Ottoman Empire, helping me out, putting up with me- would never have happened. If he had given me to some other country instead of keeping me as long as he did, I wouldn't have grown to care for him as much as I do now," he closed the door, leaving a stunned Spain behind.

Spain just sat there, eyes wide in what Romano would probably call 'a stupid expression'. He didn't know what to think. _Romano…felt that way the whole time?_ For as long as he had known him, Spain didn't know where he stood with Romano. He knew enough to know that Romano tolerated him more than others, but he didn't expect for Romano to actually care about him to this extent. To learn that Romano _did _care for him made him feel… _When I was turned to a cat, I didn't think much of it; I only thought of making the best out of it, instead of thinking on how to turn back into a human as soon as possible..._ A horrible realization went through him._ I didn't realize that being turned into a cat meant that no one knows what happened to me or the others. For all they know, we're just somewhere in the world, not knowing that we're actually cats! What will happen if we don't manage to turn back into a human? What will happen if we're stuck as a cat forever, with everyone wasting their days looking for us when we're right under their noses?_

_ How worried will Romano get then?_

Spain curled his paws, a determined expression on his face. _I have to turn back to a human! Being a cat's fun and all, but Romano's worried to death about what happened to me, and I don't know how to tell him that I'm fine! I have to turn back as soon as possible!_

'''''''

Spain was wide awake in the dark room. Next to him, Romano was peacefully sleeping with his body turned to the left, finally managing to sleep despite his restlessness. According to Romano, Italy was going to spend the night with Germany, stating that Germany had held Italy back when Romano had run out earlier and had told him that Romano needed some time by himself, which Italy decided to do. Romano had fumed for a while at the fact that Italy was going to stay with Germany, but he eventually got over it…sort of (he didn't stop swearing for an hour, but since this was Romano, that was normal). The only other interesting thing that happened afterwards was that Romano fed him tomatoes then took a shower… and that Spain still didn't have a plan.

_Telling Romano that I'm okay is the top priority, since I don't know how to turn back into a human… _Spain decided that if he was going to stay a cat forever, he at least wanted Romano to know that he was okay. _He doesn't understand me, so I can't talk to him… _He sighed. He wished that there was some sort of translator to say what he wanted to say, but unfortunately, there was none. _If I had claws, I could somehow scratch the words on some wall or something…_ But the vet had called him clawless, and even if he had, how would he know how to bring them out? Plus, Romano would be angry to see his walls scratched at, so that idea was useless. _If only there was some way I can tell him that I'm fine without having to be human… _Spain got an idea. _Wait a minute…_

He jumped off the bed and went to the plastic bag near the closet. Rummaging through the various clothes in there, he found his cellphone in his pants pocket. _Success! All I need now is a pencil or something to push the buttons, and then Romano will know that I'm okay! _ He picked the phone up with his teeth. _Hmm… But where will I get a pencil in the first place? What am I thinking; I can just use Romano's hand to press all the buttons! I'll have to wake him up though; who knows how he'll react if he suddenly finds me grabbing his hand…_

Spain jumped on to the bed and went to Romano's side, dropping the phone right next to his head. _How am I going to wake him up? I can't jump on him or anything- that caused me nightmares when someone did that to me- and I can't exactly shake him awake…. Oh, what about-? _Spain looked through his hair, unsure of where it was because of Romano's unusual position. _Here it is! _He finally found it sticking out of the right side of his hair._ I never did figure out what it does, but at least I know Romano will react! Here goes nothing!_

Using both paws (since his teeth obviously wouldn't work), Spain pulled on Romano's stray curl with all of his might. Immediately, Romano tensed.

"Ng-!" His body quivered right after Spain pulled it.

_It's working! _ Spain pulled on it again. _Romano will wake up in no time!_

"Nngh…" His body shuddered again. "S-stop…."

_Eh? He's making noises, but he's not waking up… Maybe he's dreaming? Oh well, it sounds like he'll wake up soon._ Spain tugged on it again, but this time, he got a different response.

"S-spain…" Spain froze at the sound of his name. "You damn pervert, l-let go of that… That's-!"

_Romano's dreaming about me? I wonder why though; he probably wasn't before, and all I did was tug on his curl…_ He tugged it again before Romano finished his sentence; that seemed to do the trick.

"AH!" Romano rolled out of the bed, nearly taking Spain with him if he hadn't let go in time. A loud "thud" echoed through the room, and when Spain looked down, he could've sworn Romano looked breathless.

"[Romano, are you awake now?"]" he asked.

"What the fuck…?" Romano looked around him. He squinted his eyes at Spain. "Toni, where you the one who-? Ahhhhh!" he suddenly growled at him. "Stay there!" He stood up then went for the lights. Spain closed his eyes when the sudden burst of brightness came. When he could open them, he saw Romano standing next to the light switch, his face as red as flames.

"Did you tug on my hair curl? !" Spain nodded. Romano's face went ten shades darker as he went back to the bed. "Don't ever do that again! That's my erogenous zone, and I don't want it pulled!" He clamped his mouth shut after he said this, face aflame.

_Wait a minute! _Spain felt multiple realizations come to life. _So you mean that curl is his erogenous zone? And that I've been tugging on it for who-knows-how many centuries? ! Then what I did just now was…_ If cats could blush, he probably would've been right now. He shook his head, trying to dispel all the thoughts that were coming at him. _Now's not the time to be thinking about that! Romano's awake, so it's time to get to business!_

"…swear, I _finally_ fall asleep, and then you wake me up with probably the worst method on the face of the earth, and now it's going to take me a long time to go back to sleep and- What's that over there?" Before Spain could react, Romano lunged for the phone and grabbed it. He sat down in front of Spain, looking back and forth between the phone and Spain.

"Look Toni," Romano finally said. "I don't know what you were doing with Spain's phone or how you got it, but don't touch it!" He kept the phone out of Spain's reach as he tried to grab it. "What's wrong with you? What do you need this phone for anyways; you're a cat for fuck's sake, you don't need it!"

_No!_ Spain started to panic as Romano tucked the phone away into his short's pocket. _I didn't expect this to happen!_ Thinking quick, Spain pounced on Romano.

"What the-?" With a thud, both of them landed on the bed, with Spain on top of Romano. "Get off me! Honestly, what's gotten into you Toni? Cats don't act up like this!"

"[But I'm not a cat!]" Spain screamed, which came out as a yowl. He grabbed (technically placed his paws on) Romano's shoulders. "[I'm Spain! Your former boss! I know you can't understand me, but I wish that you did!]"

"Toni, I think you've gone nuts too…" Romano tried to get him off of him, but Spain batted his hands away. "Ah, get off me!"

"[Just listen to me Romano!]" Spain begged, his face now close to Romano's. "[You're a nation! If nations like America can have super strength, then maybe deep down, you can understand cats! Ahhh, I'm not even making any sense!]" He shook his head and then spoke again. "[I just want to tell you that I'm okay; can't I even be allowed to do that? !]"

''''''''

Flying Mint Bunny flew through the hallways, the trail now strong enough that he could sense it even though he was fatigued.

Please_ let this be England already! I don't think I can handle another flight!_ He followed the trail inside a simple room.

His ears went up as he heard a thud. _Huh? !_ He flew over to see a white and light brown cat on top of an olive-skinned man with brown hair and a stray curl to his right side. For some reason, the cat seemed to be screaming at the human, but that wasn't what Flying Mint Bunny was concerned with at the moment. _NUTBURGERS! _He shook with rage._ THIS ISN'T THE RIGHT ONE! THAT'S. NOT. ENGLAND!_

Right then and there, Flying Mint Bunny's exhaustion finally caught up with him. His whole body felt like lead, and it felt like his wings were burnt to the bone. His mind went blank as he felt himself drop, his grip on the bag slipping. He managed to keep his eyes long enough to see the bag- with _all_ of the remaining fairy dust in it- spill on the white cat.

_No…_ He heard a small thud as yellow light exploded in the room. _How is master going to turn back now…?_

Flying Mint Bunny closed his eyes, sleep washing over him in waves.

'''''''

"Huh?"

Spain realized that it wasn't paws gripping Romano's shoulders, it was hands. "Hands…? Does that mean that I'm…" He hugged Romano fiercely. "Success! I'm human! My prayers must have been answered!"

"Wha… Spain? !" Spain could feel the heat of Romano's face next to him. "What are you-? How in the-?" Romano moved his face so that he could look at him. "I… _wait_," he suddenly blushed. "WHY ARE YOU NAKED? !"

"Roma, I'm sorry! Spain felt so happy that he could cry. He hugged Romano again, ignoring the other's cursing. "I didn't mean to make you worry for me like that! Boss didn't know that you cared so much for me!"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about! ! !" Spain felt Romano try to push him off, but he held on tight. "Where's Toni? ! He was just here a second ago!"

"No you don't understand," Spain let him out of his hug and looked at him in the face. "I'm Toni!"

A blank face of shock. "…What."

"You see," Spain couldn't stop himself from grinning; he could finally tell Romano what happened! "I was turned into a cat by England, but I'm back to being a human now!" He beamed at Romano's shocked face. "Aren't you happy Roma that I'm okay?"

"…" Romano moved his head so that his bangs were covering his eyes.

Spain's smile faltered slightly. _I thought he'd be happier than this..._ "Roma…?"

"YOU BASTARD!" With more strength than Spain could ever expect from Romano, Romano flung him off to the side. Spain let out a small 'ow' as his head hit the floor, churros dancing in his eyes for a brief second. Propping himself up with his elbows, Spain looked up to Romano as he rubbed his head, Romano now standing over him.

"You think I'm going to accept a half-assed answer like that? !" Romano looked at him with incensed eyes. "'I'm Toni'? What kind of fucked up answer is that? !"

"No Roma, let me explain!" He put out a hand to stop Romano before he hit him. "England somehow turned me and the others into cats, but then we got separated and I somehow ended up with you and Ita, so here I am!" Romano still looked like he was going to hit him, so he continued on. "I mean, the cat you guys found in the meeting was actually me in cat form! I really _am_ Antonio!"

"Hell if I'm accepting that answer!" Romano replied with venom the size of a continent. "If you're really Toni, then tell me something only he knows then!"

Spain went with the first thing that went on his head. "That stray curl on the right side of your head is your erogenous zone!"

"What? !" He looked genuinely shocked. "But that's impossible; I never told you, unless…" Romano stared at him for a fracture of a second more and then turned into a shade that would put the word 'red' to shame. "SHIT, YOU ACTUALLY ARE TONI!"

He suddenly fell onto the floor on his knees. "So you mean… All that embarrassing stuff that I've been telling Toni… I WAS ACTUALLY SAYING THEM TO _YOU_? !" He covered his face with his hands. "Shitshitshitshitshi-"

"Romano, calm down!" Spain went over to him and tried to grab his shoulders in an attempt to shake him out of his frenzy, but Romano used an arm to bat his arms away.

"Get away from me!" Romano screamed, avoiding Spain's eyes. "I never wanted you to know any of that! You know how fucking embarrassed I am right now knowing that you heard all that sappy crap I was saying? ! AHHH!" He shook his head violently. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME SOONER THAT YOU WERE TONI? !"

_I couldn't! I was a _cat;_ there's only so much things a cat can do!_ Spain didn't bother saying any of this; he figured that it wouldn't have helped. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked at him solemnly. "Romano," he said in a voice he only reserved for serious times like this.

Romano snapped out of his wild frenzy and looked at him. "I didn't think that any of those things were embarrassing," he put a hand up to stop Romano from talking. "In fact, I'm glad you told me all that; I wouldn't have known any of that if I was still a human, and for that, I'm glad to have been turned into a cat. But…"

Spain took another deep breath. "I'm sorry I made you worry over me. To be honest, I wasn't really thinking of how to turn back into a human in the first place; I probably would've been happy to just stay here as cat, being taken care of by you two," he held Romano's hand with both of his. "But then I saw how worried you were at my sudden disappearance, and I knew that I had to turn back into a human, if just to tell you that I'm okay and that you can stop worrying."

He cupped Romano's face with his hands and touched his forehead with his. "I promise, I won't ever make you worry like that ever again, okay Roma? So please," he smiled at him. "Just calm down."

They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither one moving. Finally, Romano sighed, apparently calmer now.

"Idiot…" Romano looked away from him. "You can't promise a stupid thing like that…I can't stop worrying about an idiot like you…"

Spain chuckled. "Just another way of showing how you care for me, right?" Romano blushed- honestly, it seemed like there was no end to how red Romano could get- and kept avoiding his eyes. "To tell you the truth, I was really happy when Roma told me that he cared about me. Although…" Spain took a hold of Romano's chin and made him look at him. "I wish you could've told me yourself though."

There really was no end to how red Romano could get. "I-idiot… Do you really think that I wo-"

"But then again," Spain interrupted him, a thoughtful expression on his face. "There are lots of things I still don't know about Roma, like how you like cats!" He smiled as he suddenly remembered the things he had learned about Romano while he was a cat. "Hey, didn't Ita say that you draw? Can you show me some of them sometime Roma? I've never seen any of your drawings, and Ita says they're good! I want to see them!"

"Just forget about that!" Romano's eyes briefly widened in embarrassment. "Anyways, will you stop talking and just-"

"Oh!" He suddenly remembered something else. "I still need to eat your churros don't I? I'm sure they'll taste really good!"

"Spain-" Spain just continued on with his ramblings.

"That reminds me; you had the most adorable face while you were sleeping! You should be quiet like that more often, Romano, you're really cute when you're quiet you know?"

"Spain, can you just shut up and enjoy the mo-"

"Oh, and why didn't you tell me about your hair curl was your erogenous zone? To think of all the times I pulled i-"

"BASTARD, STOP RUINING THE MOMENT!" Romano head-butted him violently, causing Spain to fall on his butt.

"Ow…" He rubbed the spot where Romano had hit him. "You didn't have to do that Roma, that really hu-" Spain was suddenly cut off by arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "Romano?"

"Just shut the fuck up and enjoy the moment already, will you?" Although Spain couldn't see Romano's face, he could tell he was blushing yet again. "I'm glad you're okay," he heard him mumble. "I really am."

"Romano…" Spain wrapped his arms around Italian's waist. "I really am sorry for making you worry… I promise that I'll try not to let it happen again… After all, I can't let a person I care about cry, now can I?"

"A person you care abou-?"

"That reminds me," Spain pushed him a bit off so that he could see his face. "I still haven't shown you how much I care about you yet, did I?"

"What are you-" Spain cut him off as he lightly pressed his lips against his. He pulled back, only to be greeted by a tomato-red Romano.

He smiled teasingly at him. "Just be quiet and enjoy the moment, will you?"

"Idiot, don't steal my lines…" Spain laughed before pulling Romano into another kiss, both of them just enjoying the moment.

_Yup…_ Spain thought as he kissed Romano. _Things can't get any better than this…_

''''''

"Romanoooooo," Italy walked through the halls as he called out his brother's name. In his arms was a light brown tabby with darker spots on his forehead, tail, and hind leg, with a curl on the left side of his head to match his master's. "I'm back~! Oh, and I found Gino! He was with Germany's cat the whole time! Weird, huh?"

He kept walking until he was in front of the door to their room. "Ve, do you think he's in there Gino?" His cat only meowed sleepily in response. "I hope he's still not mad from yesterday… Plus, I have to tell him the good news! Canada called Germany and said that big brother France was over at his place, and then big brother Prussia called us for some reason from Russia's house telling us he was fine, so that means that Spain is probably alright as well!"

Italy opened the door. "Fratello, I have some good ne- Ve? !"

He placed Gino down on the floor, who immediately walked over to the other side of the bed. Meanwhile, Italy was staring dumbstruck at the bed. There, Spain and Romano were sleeping peacefully, Spain hugging Romano close to his chest. They both looked so peaceful, so…

He did the first thing he thought of; he took out his phone and took a picture of the pretty sight. He looked at the picture then giggled softly so he wouldn't wake them up. "Aw, they look so cute together! But fratello will kill me if I show this to him, so I best keep this secret…"

Italy placed his phone away then smiled. "I'm glad big brother Spain is back though… Romano was probably really worried the whole time, so now he can relax…"

He watched them for a second more then walked over to Gino, who for some reason, was poking at the air.

"Gino, what are you doing?" He bent down and picked up his cat, who mewled at the sudden contact. "Do you want to play or something? Ooh, maybe you can play with Antonio!"

Italy smiled at the thought of a cat play date. "Oh, but where is he? He didn't run away did he? Oh no, Romano will be so mad…"

Italy frowned slightly and started walking out the door, Gino in hand. "Let's go find him Gino! I'll go tell Romano when he wakes up that Antonio's missing. He might get mad at me for not telling him sooner, but they look so cute together, and I don't want to ruin that by waking them up…"

Italy continued to ramble on, unaware that his cat was still staring at the direction of a certain mint bunny, who was fast asleep and seemed not to wake up any time soon.

* * *

Finally! Man, this turned out longer than I thought… Oh well, I hoped you liked it! Gino is Itabby/Neko!Italy, but that's what Italy calls him (or at least, according to Heta Wiki that is). There will be around 2 more updates after this, then the story's over! I hope you'll stick around 'til then!


	5. The Memories that Bind Us

_Oh my potatoes, it's been some time since I last updated, huh? Oh well, it's here now! (Btw, I use quotes from actual strips. Also, I do not own those strips). America might be a bit OOC since I'm basically basing his personality off of the Hetalia canon and my headcanon, so yeah…_

_P.S. The poll is now closed. Wow, you guys must REALLY like that idea... I'll start writing it after this story, so enjoy for now!_

_P.P.S. I DO live in America, so don't expect much British-English. Any British-English that I do use, I apologize if I end up using it wrong._

* * *

The room they were in shone with a soft light, the red curtains preventing the afternoon sunlight from coming in. There was a large maroon and yellow-fringed carpet at the floor, a brass lamp hanging in the center of the room. It was rather spacious, the simple white walls with the brown wood on the bottom adding to the effect. DVD cases were at the front of the room, with a small desk and a telephone on it standing at the side. England settled down on the plush red couch near the back of the room, watching as America got the remote from the mahogany table in front of them and turned on the plasma screen TV. Two black armchairs were on the other side of the table, both of them unoccupied.

_You know, _England swished his tail around. _If I didn't want to turn back so badly, this wouldn't be so bad. _So far, living with the American had been rather pleasant, with America being cordial and was pretty much pampering England. It was a bit odd actually, especially since they had just fought recently… That, and America being nice to him wasn't something he was used to. Whenever England would stay over because of a meeting, the two would end up arguing like they always did. Now that he was a cat, America had changed from the brash hero into a gentler animal lover. It seemed like the boundless energy he normally had was channeled, contained even. It reminded England of when America was younger and far less energetic, before the...

_No._ England shook his head as America browsed through the channels. _ That time is over; it won't do me any good thinking about it._ It still didn't stop that unpleasant aftertaste from coming back. He forced it down, not wanting to relive those painful memories.

England's head perked up as America placed the remote down, the channel now on the news. _That's odd,_ England thought as he watched the American not make a move to change the channel. _I never thought he'd be the type to watch the news; I always thought he would just go home and play video games or some other activity. _They sat there for a while, watching as reports of murders, disasters, and cat rescues popped up. Finally, America turned off the TV.

"Nothing," his voice was unnaturally troubled. "Well, I suppose that if anything like that _did_ happen, it would be all over the news already... So that means…"

America lapsed into a thoughtful silence, just staring at the now blank TV screen. England stared at him, a few thoughts running through his own head.

_What was he watching the news for? It was like he was expecting something to pop up, like a-_

America's voice broke him out of his thoughts. "I just remembered," America picked up England and set him on his lap. "I still haven't settled on a name for you yet. Even though you probably have an owner, I still need to call you something for the time being. I mean, I can't call you 'Cat' or 'Mr. Kitty' all the time. Although," he pouted a little. "I still don't get why you don't like 'Captain America' or 'USA' or 'Alfred'. Personally, I would love to have any of those names."

_You may as well make me an American with those names,_ England tried to scowl, but he figured he failed. He just turned away from America, hoping the other understood what he was meaning to say. After a pause, America picked him up and turned him so that he was looking at his face.

"I know!" He beamed at him. "How about 'Arthur' for a name? I remember England telling me before that that was the name of some famous king guy, and I think it's cool enough for you!" He set him down on his lap again. "What do you think?"

'_Some famous king guy'_ _does _not _do King Arthur of Camelot any justice whatsoever,_ England tried to scowl again, but with less effort. Say what he will, he didn't mind being called 'Arthur'… After all, it meant that America listened to him _sometimes_ if he managed to remember something like that. He nodded, causing America's grin to widen.

"All right then, Arthur it is! But now that I think about it, I feel like there's a kid show with that name…" America laughed. "Oh well, a king's name is still cool enough! So, what do you want to do today? We just fell asleep yesterday and slept through the morning, and I brought you to the vet this afternoon but that's hardly any fun and I sort of neglected you these past 30-60 minutes…"

His face turned pensive, his hand moving so that it was stroking England's head absentmindedly. "Oh I know!" He seemed to have an idea. "You're probably hungry, aren't you? I have another cat and he eats all the time, so I bet you're pretty hungry right now, huh?" He set England down beside him and stood up. "I'll be right back! I'll just give you the same thing as yesterday, okay?"

_Oh dear, no._ England tried to push away thoughts of yesterday's disastrous dinner away as America walked away to the kitchen. After trying pretty much every cat food America had with him at the time, the America finally settled on giving England hamburgers, although he was rather hesitant ("I know that hamburgers are the most amazing thing in the world, but should I really give these to a cat? But they're all I have left and you won't eat anything else... Ahh, I just hope you're not an ordinary cat. My other cat can handle this from time to time since he's special, but I doubt you can, and-" It was the longest monologue England had ever heard). England knew that his physical appearance had merely transformed into that of a cat (in a way; magic was very tricky and that explanation was the best England could describe it as even though it wasn't entirely accurate) and that he was still technically human, so he knew that cat food wasn't exactly safe for him.

However, that meant putting up with America's burgers.

America came back, a small hamburger in his hands. The burger only had the patty and quite possibly ketchup on it, but England still didn't want to eat it. He didn't hate burgers, but he would rather not eat them if he could help it. He was just glad that America had the sense to give him a normal burger instead of five-pounders. America held out a tentative hand in front of England, a worried expression on his face.

"I _really_ hope you're special…" he murmured as England took a bit of the burger in his hands. "You seemed okay yesterday, but you never know…"

_Is he really like this amongst animals?_ England thought as he kept on eating the burger. _It would be nice if he was this considerate all the time… It would certainly make him easier to understand. _They continued on in silence, until England finally felt a hand petting his ears.

He looked up, having already finished the burger. A random urge to purr stuck in his throat as America petted his ears. America chuckled. "You have some pretty weird ears, them being folded up like that… but it's actually pretty cute…" he returned to just petting his head. "I wonder what breed you are… You're certainly a cat I've never seen before. I'm sure that you're probably a Scottish Fold because of those ears, but those eyebrows…." He frowned, his thumb rubbing over England's eyebrows gently. "I don't think any cats have eyebrows like these; I mean, these are exactly like England's!"

Before England could reply, the phone suddenly rang. America stood up. "Coming!" he said, leaving England to his thoughts.

England jumped off the couch and started to pace. _He seems to mention me a lot more lately… Although I doubt that that's anything of significance… _ He sighed and sat down, somehow ending up at the other side of the room. He was right next to a corridor, with brown and white-fringed rugs lining the hardwood floor.

"Arthur?" England perked his head up as America came looking for him. He crouched down in front of him when he found him. "Now what are you doing over there? You might get lost in a big house like this one," America frowned slightly, but his expression changed to a neutral one soon afterwards. "Anyways, Canada just called me and said that France was over at his place."

_France? !_ England pricked his ears up as America continued on. "You know what's weird? Canada asked me if I had a cat with me and I said yes. It was really weird of him to ask me that though; I mean, he already knows about my cat, so why ask again?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "Then he asked when I got my cat and that if I got one during the meeting, if he was acting strange or humanlike. When I told him that I did get you during the meeting and that you were a bit strange for a cat, he asked if he could come over, saying that you could be one of the missing countries."

_How'd Canada know about our situation? !_ England widened his eyes. _Somehow, France must have managed to get back into human form if he could tell Canada about what happened to all of us. _An idea formed on his head. _If I can get those two to come over, maybe France can somehow help me change back! _

While England started thinking of his chances of turning back, America was laughing to himself. "Isn't that weird? I told Canada that there was no way my _cat_ was England- I mean, how in the world would that work out? I know England believes in 'magic' and all that stuff, but even he's not capable of shape shifting," Something in England felt disappointed at America's lack of faith in him, but then again, it was somewhat true. He didn't need to like it though. "Still, Canada really wanted to come over and take a look at you, so he'll be coming by tomorrow," America looked at him quizzically. "Are you okay? You seem a bit out of it right now."

Truthfully, the gears in his mind had started turning. _Perfect! Once France is here, he can help me turn back! _England started to feel hope at being able to turn back again, although he couldn't help but note the irony in that _France _was going to be helping him._ After that, I can go find the others and problem solved. Of course…_ he looked at America, who was still staring at him. _I still have to get back at America for that fight, but I suppose that I can let it go. _England quickly looked away. _After this, I don't think I have the heart to._

"Are you sure you're okay?" America repeated, the other sounding wholly unsure. "You're probably just tired huh?" His voice suddenly lightened up as he picked up England. "Why didn't you just say so?" He stood up and started walking into the hallway, holding England close to his chest. "Well, you're a cat so I have no idea how you would say that, but the _least_ you could do was give me a sign! Naturally you'd be pretty tired, especially since we just came from a different continent yesterday and you just had a visit with the vet," America kept on walking through the white hallways as he rambled on. "It's a lot earlier than when I go to sleep, but I don't mind sleeping early sometimes."

They finally stopped in front of a familiar white-washed door. America placed England down and then opened the door, revealing a wide white room with a blue-gray rug over the light brown hardwood floor. A wide closet was at the left side of the room, jackets hung on hangers perfectly neat while the drawers underneath were open, its contents spilled around the room. Two paned windows were at the front of the room, the sky blue curtains pulled to the side to show the orange-pink sky of evening. Even though America lived close to the capital, he lived far enough that the city could be barely seen; instead, the view consisted of trees that America probably grew himself. In the middle of the room was a king size bed with red, white, and blue comforters and fluffy white pillows, something black protruding out from the edge of under one of the pillows. On the right side of the bed was a mahogany night stand with a digital alarm clock on it, although England couldn't see the time clearly from where he was. On the left side was a similar night stand but with a lamp on top of it instead of a clock, an arched opening leading to the master bathroom right next to the night desk. Comic books were splayed around the room, the bookshelf at the corner of the room practically devoid of it.

_The minute I'm turned back,_ England thought as he entered the room. _The faster I can tell this boy to clean up this pig sty he calls a bedroom. _He sat himself at the foot of the bed next to a navy blue plaid cat bed as America bent down and picked up some of the clothes on the floor.

"Sorry for the mess Arthur," he said apologetically as he stuffed the clothes into drawers. "I'm not usually this messy. Things have been a bit hectic lately, and I haven't had time to clean up around here."

_He still could have cleaned the place up a little bit..._ England thought as America finished up cleaning. _Well, it's not like the lad could help it. Even I'm a bit too busy for my liking and- what the hell is that boy doing? !_

England didn't know if he should look away or watch as America started to remove his shirt, England only being able to see his left side_. He's grown since he was a child..._ He thought, entranced by what he was seeing. He shook his head furiously, trying to force himself to look away. _N-no, I shouldn't be doing this! It's indecent and- you've got to be kidding me, that isn't fat; that's clearly muscle! And since when did he get a six-pack? ! _England turned away quickly as America turned to him, still without a shirt on.

"Hey Arthur, do you want to sleep on the cat bed today? My other cat might not be coming back anytime soon and- hey, are you trembling? Oh and why are you looking away? You usually look at me when I talk..."

_Get some clothes on first!_ England was glad cats couldn't blush; otherwise, he'd be as red as a tomato right now. _ I can't think straight when you're half-naked!_

England refused to turn around until after a few more minutes. When he did, he was a relieved and a tad (_only _a tad. Really. He absolutely did _not_ want to see America shirtless. _Really_) disappointed that America had changed into his pajamas and was now fully clothed. He was wearing a simple cerulean shirt with black jogging pants, looking as if he was going to play video games or go running. America sat down next to England, picking him up and setting him on his lap.

"So do you want to sleep on the cat bed? Or do you want to sleep with me like you did yesterday?" America asked again, stroking England's back as he did so. "I don't move in my sleep, but I'm sort of worried I'll crush you, and I'm not exactly the lightest person-"

_Says the nation with the six-pack_, England was seriously glad cats could not blush. _That there was in no way the fat that he keeps on saying that he has, although it is true that it wouldn't be pleasant to be pinned down under him…_ England instinctively reached for America's hand when he stopped stroking his back.

He looked up to see America smiling. "So, bed?" England nodded in reply. "Good! Well then…" America placed England down and crawled to the top of the bed. "Good night!" He exclaimed, falling headfirst into a pillow, only to rise back up again a second later. An expression of panic came unto his face as he turned back and grabbed something from under the pillow, his hand covering most of what he had gotten.

_Just what is he holding? Could it be that black thing I saw earlier? But what is it exactly and why is he hiding it?_ England thought, padding up to get a closer look. America saw him and hid the thing away, turning away from England and getting off the bed, effectively hiding his hand from view.

"Err, sorry Arthur, but it seems like I left something here too…" He made his way for the door. "Just go sleep before me okay? Oh and, uh…" America looked at him sheepishly. "I don't know why, but I feel like I should tell you this… even if you _are_ cat… but you_ are_ rather intelligent…" he looked like he would ramble on, but managed to stop himself. "Ahh, just whatever you do, don't go through the corridor with the brown and white fringed rugs," his voice suddenly became serious. "There are some things I won't let even a cat see," America left after that, leaving behind a stunned England.

England stared blankly at the now shut door, not sure what to think at America's sudden change of mood.

_Is it just me, or is America acting rather strangely…_ He started making a mental list of the oddities in America's recent personality.

_He ended the meeting early, something he doesn't do without a good reason, which he _didn't_ state when he ended the meeting._

_He was looking through the news as if he was expecting something to pop up._

_He's not his usual smiling self no matter how hard he tries to hide it._

_Extending from number 3, his manner of speech is odder. Even though he isn't the quietest of people, it seems like his constant rambling is trying to hide something…_

A conclusion formed in his mind. _America's probably worried about something, but that just leaves one question…_

_Just _what _is he worried about?_

'''''

England opened his eyes to the morning-lit room. The room was bathed in the gentle light of morning, the quiet almost serene. He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, but he knew that he had fallen asleep before America had come back. He turned to his right to see the American sleeping peacefully next to him. His glasses were off from his face, giving him the youthful appearance England remembered he had when he was younger, although it was hard to see him as the rebellious teen he was back then when he was sleeping. Despite looking like his younger self, the worry in his face shone clearly, making him look his actual age.

_I wish I knew what was troubling America already… _ England padded up closer to him. _I could use magic, but it seems that this form inhibits my magic in some way… _If he could, he would have frowned. _Even if I was in human form, I would never consider using mind reading on him. For one thing, his mind is too thick for me to penetrate, and it would take too much effort._

He sat down, just inches away from America's face. _If only there was some way to talk to him… Well, at least France and Canada are coming over; with luck, I might be able to change back sooner than I expected._

England stepped back as America opened his eyes slowly, the sky blue of his eyes showing through. He stared at England for a while, as if not sure of what he was seeing.

"Arthur… you're up already?" America sat up on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Wow, two days in a row you managed to wake up before me…" he chuckled to himself as he grabbed his glasses from the night stand next to him and placed them on. "Naah, what time is it?" He took the digital clock from where it was and stared at it. "That late already? Canada should be coming soon then…"

America got up and headed for the bathroom. He looked back at England and smiled. "Hey, do you want to take a bath with me? I want you to look presentable after all."

_Those two have better come soon, _England felt heat rising up at the suggestion, but grudgingly jumped down from the bed. _The sooner I get turned back, the better._

'

England sat on the couch, wanting with all his heart to turn back already. Apparently, America's cat loved to be coaxed into a bath using treats, which was what America had attempted with England, but stopped when England just went in the bath on his own ("You really are a strange cat, aren't you Arthur?"). The ensuring bath was somewhat torturous for England, especially since America had to physically touch him to bathe him. It was the oddest sensation, and England wished never to relive it again while he was still a cat. And don't even get to the topic of _America_ showering…

While England was still trying to get over his bathroom experience, America was playing the new video game Japan had sent him. He was wearing his old WWII jacket (in one of his monologues, he had explained to England that he liked to wear it from time to time since it was his favorite jacket) over a plain white shirt and navy blue sweatpants. Even though his hair was still wet from the bath, Nantucket was still standing up as if nothing had happened to it. America was completely concentrated on the game, occasionally "rage-quitting", which led to him to more than once almost throw his controller out the window (but not before England would yowl to make him stop, although it was nice to see America genuinely relaxed for a change).

England sat with his legs stretched out with his paws on his belly, not really sure what else to do other than watch America play his game. For a while, the only noise came from the game, but it wasn't long until the doorbell rang.

"That must be them," America paused the game and stood up. "Stay here Arthur, all right?" He quickly jogged towards the entrance of the house as England stood up.

_Took them long enough,_ England would have been grinning if he could. _Now I can turn back! I just hope that nothing has happened to the others. For all I know, Spain and Prussia could still be stuck in London as strays. At least when I turn back, I can finally track them down and Flying Mint Bunny too. Now that I think about it,_ a strange thought crossed his head. _I told Flying Mint Bunny to get the cure for us, but the janitor shooed us out before he came back. _Memories of the last time he saw Flying Mint Bunny drifted into his mind._ I wonder what he's doing now?_

"…So I have this cool new game from Japan and it's totally awesome! Are you sure you don't want to play with me Canada?"

"America, you know I stopped playing video games with you a long time ago…"

"_Oui_, you have a certain tendency to either go overboard or cheat."

"The hero does NOT cheat… I only use codes that help."

"What am I going to do with you America…?"

_It's them!_ England ran to the edge of the couch, turning to see America, Canada, and France walking in. Canada wore a simple teal sweatshirt hoodie with jeans, the bear he always had with him asleep in his arms. On the other hand, France was wearing a long sleeved dress shirt with a red tie with brown pants, probably Canada's seeing as how he would never wear something like that. They looked across the room until both their eyes fell on England, Canada turning to France as if asking him to assert something.

"_Oui_, that is indeed _Angleterre,_" France said, a smirk appearing in his face. England hissed in reply. _I can't believe I have to ask help from _him _of all nations._

"France, you need to have your brain checked," America chuckled and patted France on the back. "Last time I checked, England is a slim blonde that looks like a human, while Arthur over here is an orange and white cat. The only similarities between them are the emerald green eyes, but there are both cats and nations that have them."

"Would you care to explain the eyebrows then?" France quirked an eyebrow in response. "Only a handful of nations have both green eyes and those hideously hairy eyebrows."

_I _really_ can't believe that I have to ask help from him._ England glared at France while America shrugged.

"Coincidence," America dismissed the argument with a hand wave. "Look, as interesting as it would be if England was actually my cat, it's not possible through scientific means, so it's probably not true."

"How about magical means?" They both turned to Canada. "France told me that he just suddenly turned into a cat after an explosion, and even if you take that explosion out, I don't think there's any 'human' way of turning nations into cats."

"Yeah right," America chuckled. "Magic does not exist, period. Everything can be explained by science and technology one way or another."

"_Amerique,_ are you forgetting that you are a personification of a land mass?" France's tone was amused. "I don't think there are any scientific methods of that happening either."

America shrugged again. "Point taken. Okay then, let's assume that England is indeed Arthur, how do you suppose he and the others turned into a cat in the first place?"

"Well," Canada shuffled nervously. "England is a rather whimsical person, and he does say that he dabbles in the magical arts… Maybe he somehow turned himself and the others into cats that way?"

There was a silence, Canada looking even more embarrassed by the second. Finally, America frowned. "Useless. It's all useless. What motive would England have to turn nations into a cat?" he made a flicking motion with his hands. "There is the possibility of the cat metamorphosis being England's fault, since he could've done it out of revenge… But then there's why he was affected as well," he shook his head, "It just doesn't add up."

America started to pace. "England could have meant that 'spell', or whatever you want to call it, for only one or two people in the room. The spell happened to backfire and now they're all cats, although I doubt England would be idiotic enough to use a spell he isn't 100% confident about in the first place. England is centuries old, and I doubt a cat-changing spell is all he knows. Even if he _did_ mean to use that certain spell, he certainly isn't idiotic enough to use it without a back-up plan on a way to turn back," he stopped and scratched his head. "There's too little information, so let's leave the England/Arthur thing at a Schrodinger's Cat, all right?"

"Excuse me, but didn't that come from an Austrian?" England was just as surprised as France. "Just how in the world do you know about that?"

America smiled. "Do you take me for a moron?" He chuckled lightly. "At any rate, there remains the possibility that England is or is not Arthur, but I firmly believe that he is not. So," he led them to the couch, where he sat down next to Arthur. Canada and France relaxedly sat on the black armchairs near them, Canada setting Kumajirou on his lap. "Is your visit only going to consist on questioning about my cat, or will you two join me in an epic battle of video-gaming?"

Canada smiled. "Only you, America, can switch from sounding like a professor into a total child in less than 5 minutes. And no, I already told you that I only came here for to discuss about your cat," he looked at England and then at France. "Are you sure that this is England? He could be any cat for all I know, and it has been a while since you last saw his cat form."

"He _is_ just some cat," America insisted, taking the controller and turning off the game system. "I can't prove that he isn't just some cat, but come on, you're saying some pretty messed up things right now."

Canada shrugged. "So is it really England?" He repeated to France.

France leaned forward and placed a hand on his chin, eyeing the cat thoughtfully. England just stared back, wondering what was taking the French nation so long. _It hasn't been long since he last saw me, and I'm sure he remembers what I look like as a cat… I think._ After an unbearably long time, France leaned back.

"Well, it certainly seems that-"

A soothing tone started to play. Canada took his phone out of his pocket and opened it. "Excuse me, but it seems that I have a call," he placed a hand on his phone briefly to convey the message before removing it. "Hello?" Canada asked as he stood up and left the room, leaving Kumajirou in his seat.

America turned to France as soon as Canada was out of sight. "You're not seriously going to say that Arthur truly is England, are you?"

France chuckled. "_Mon cher_, there is no mistake that this is the same cat that England claimed he was. What other animal has those hideous eyebrows?"

"…Shiba Inus..." America muttered before sighing. "Look, I think I'd know if England was my cat. I mean, we're friends and stuff, so I think I can tell if my friend turned into a cat."

England blinked as France didn't say anything in reply. _He thinks we're friends?_ Although there was no doubt that both nations were rather close, there were times when their relationship would take a turn for the worse. Nevertheless, this was the first time England actually heard America himself saying that they were friends.

England pricked his ears up as France leaned forward again, resting his head on the two hands he had propped on his knees. "You're worried about England, aren't you?" He stated suddenly.

Both England and America started. "H… how did you-?"

"My dear _Amerique,_ it is written all over your face," France smiled. "Only an idiot wouldn't realize that you aren't worried about _Angleterre's_ sudden disappearance."

England made a mental note to kill France later (even though he _was_ right).

Meanwhile, America had looked away, a pout on his face. "O-of course the hero is worried about the disappearances! For all we know, some alien could be taking nations one by one. It's the hero's job to protect everyone, so naturally I'd be concerned!"

"America," For once, France seemed to be using his English title. America turned to him, eyes widening a little at France's sudden change of mood. "You and I know both know that you are far more concerned about England's specific disappearance than the disappearances in general. And now that you have reason to believe that the cat you had so inadvertently picked up happens to be the nation you are looking for, I don't see why you can't just accept it."

"That's because it's way too illogical," America scoffed. "I mean, a nation turning into a cat? Cat people I've seen, but not nations turning into cats," he stood up. "If England was really here, then he'd criticize me for not being a good host. Let me go get some hamburgers for you guys," America walked away, muttering under his breath something England couldn't hear. England turned to France, who had turned to England as well.

"Well _Angleterre,_" England felt a hiss rise to his throat at the playful tone of his voice. "It seems that _Amerique_ does not believe that you are a cat. Unless you turn back into your human form in front of him, I doubt he ever will."

"[I don't care about that right now!]" England hissed. "[Just help me turn back already so he can stop worrying and I can change the others!]"

France looked amused. He turned to Kumajirou. "Kuma, what did he say? …Although judging by his tone, it can't be anything good, now can it?"

Kuma, who had seemed asleep the whole time, opened his eyes. "Just because I tolerate you now does _not_ mean you can call me 'Kuma'…" he yawned. "Basically, he said that he wants you to help him change back so that America will stop worrying and that he change the others back…"

England stared at the bear. _The polar bear can understand me? ! I wonder if it holds true for other pets of other nations… _He shook his head. _Doesn't matter, I can ask him to translate for me! _"[Do you mind translating for me…err…Kumajirou?]" When he didn't reply, England just decided to take it as a yes. "[If you will, then tell him to tell me how he managed to change back.]"

"He's also asking you to tell him how you managed to change back…" Kumajirou repeated to France. "Although I don't see why I have to translate for you two…"

"Don't worry Kuma, I'll ask Canada to reward you for this later," Kumajirou nodded, apparently satisfied with that. France turned to England. "You don't need to worry about the others; Prussia and Spain managed to tell me that they are fine, which leaves you the only one stuck as a _chat_," he snickered lightly, but quickly switched to a more serious expression later. "I wish I could help you, but even I don't know myself how I turned back. All I know is that I just suddenly turned back, so it's quite possible that your little 'spell' wears off with time."

_That can't be._ England felt his hope drop down to a mere sliver. _I designed that potion so that the person it was used on would stay as a cat until I turned them back. So unless he managed to get into contact with something that can cure him, there's no way France should have managed to turn back into his original state at all… Unless there are other ways for me to turn back, but it could be centuries until I figure out what they are!_

The silence wrapped around the three like a blanket, neither of them saying or doing anything. Finally, Kumajirou spoke. "I think… I remember seeing a flying bunny with a bag after you turned back into a human… I don't care if that helps, it's what I saw…"

_Flying Mint Bunny!_ England stood up straighter as the realization hit him. _He must have found the others and turned them back with the dust! He'll probably be able to turn me back! _Another realization went through him. _But if France ended up with Canada, then there's a chance that the others ended up with other countries as well; chances are, Flying Mint Bunny flew around the world looking for the others and curing them, so he's probably fatigued right now… And since he was never used to traveling such long distances, I doubt that he'll get here anytime soon. _England attempted to sigh. _So basically, I'm just back to where I started._

France seemed to notice England's drop in mood. "Ah, I don't think we are helping much Kuma. It seems that _Angleterre_ here is truly at a loss on how to turn back," he sighed dramatically. "It will be extremely troublesome if you don't manage to turn back. For one thing, I can't pay you back for turning me into a cat in the first place, but it breaks my heart to see _Amerique_ act so strangely out of worry."

"[No kidding,]" England muttered as he sat down. "[The sooner I get turned back, the better it is for us all.]"

'''''''''''

England found himself wandering around the halls of America's townhouse, feeling hopelessly lost. When America came back with the burgers and Canada had finished his call, America had somehow managed to coax the others into playing the video game with him. They were so immersed in their video game that England decided to just go back to America's room, hoping to think better in a quieter environment. He doubted that America had noticed him leave the living room and England didn't want to disturb their game, so he ended up just leaving by himself and hoping that he remembered the way to America's room. Apparently, he remembered wrong.

_Bollocks, I'll never find my way back now._ He sat down, tired after wandering around for so long. The walls of the corridor were painted a pristine white, with the bottom part being made of a different kind of wood. The sunlight from the windows shining brilliantly on the hardwood floors, and he found himself sitting on an intricate brown rug fringed with white fur. A shudder suddenly went through his body the moment he sat down.

_This aura…_ Something in it was intensely familiar to England. _Where have I felt it before? It's like… _A memory floated into his mind. _No, it can't be…_

He stood up again and walked forward until he was in front of a partially opened white double door with a beautiful golden doorknob. England felt the aura wrap around him, and he knew that this was the source. He walked inside, only to find himself in an oppressively gray room. Dust covered each area, down from the boxes down to the drapes on the windows. Items were scattered around the floor like it was common trash. It was obvious that the room had not been cleaned recently.

_What is this place?_ Going against all common place, England stepped in, wincing as an air of dust hit him. _Honestly, I knew the lad was messy, but this is too much…_ He kept walking forward, looking around for anything of remote interest. Suddenly, his leg hit something, and he found himself almost falling face-forward into the floor.

_Wha-!_ England stumbled a few feet forward before regaining his balance. He looked back to see what had tripped him, only to see something he never expected to see. There lay an old yet painstakingly familiar red soldier, an equally familiar box a few feet away from it. _This is-_

'

"_I can really have this? Wow! It's so cool, thank you England!" The boy was looking at the diamond patterned toy box in his hands, a box which held hand-made soldiers inside of it. He wore an olive green vest over a long sleeved light blue dress shirt with a red ribbon, with blue trousers and brown shoes completing the look. His childish face was alight with joy, an emotion that was reflected in his sky blue eyes, those eyes not yet framed by the glasses he would obtain later on._

_ "Take good care of it now!" England beamed at the small boy. "And be more careful when using a hammer next time." He couldn't bring himself to be mad at the boy for breaking his left arm; he always found it a good thing that America was so lively…_

_ "Whoa, there are all sorts of soldiers here!" He looked to see America opening the box. "Everyone's face is different!"_

_ England smiled and scoffed. "That's because it's custom-made."_

_America wasn't listening however. He picked up a soldier and promptly attacked England's arm with it, a playful expression on his face._

'

_What…_ Something in England seemed to have dulled. _What is that doing here?_ Memories of the previous night came to his mind, and he found himself remembering the strange black item America had been holding. _Now that I think about it, it sort of looked like the soldier here… but why would America keep it after all this time?_

He kept walking forward, stopping only when he saw a dusty dark blue suit sitting on top of a box.

'

"_Eh? What's with this suit?"_

_ England turned to America, who had pretty much turned into a teen overnight. He was tall and lanky, his movements clumsy at the sudden change, as if he was a boy stuck in a much older body. His baby fat was lost, but his face still held a chubby roundness to it, making it harder for England to accept that he truly got older. Although he still looked younger than England, he had somehow grown to be taller than him, but only by a centimeter or two… Taller was still taller though, and England was still flabbergasted at how a nation that could barely reach his shoulders grow fast enough into having to look down on him. _

At this rate, America might grow up to not need me anymore… _He thought as he watched the teen look at himself in the mirror._ But that's not likely to happen, isn't it? The boy still has a lot to learn, and he depends on me too much… Either way, he was growing at an alarming rate… Maybe it would be best to keep a closer eye on him…

_ America looked at the suit with disdain. "Looks expensive, and it's not like I wear these…"_

_ "Absolutely not!" England snapped at him, placing his hands on his hips, also crinkling the suit he was wearing as he did so. "Your wardrobe has become a complete mess lately!" He let out an exasperated breath. "If you don't dress properly, it's troublesome for me as well!"_

_ America pouted. "It's fine, I like my clothes now!"_

_**Later…**_

_"See, you do look better like this!" England crossed his arms, a satisfied look on his face as he watched America look himself over in the mirror, now wearing the suit he gave him._

_ "Ehh, but I'm poor," America looked flustered. "Can't wear this unless there's an occasion!"_

'

_This too…_ England turned away from it, wishing that he didn't have to remember. Those memories only came back when he was drunk or it was near the Fourth of July, and those moments were unbearable enough. _Don't tell me that this is where America keeps all of his mementos from that time…_ It was strange, thinking that America, who always placed great emphasis on the future, would keep souvenirs of the past. _I never expected America to be so hung up on the past like me…_

England's eyes suddenly caught the slightest glint of metal, and found his eyes locked on the weapon he never wanted to see again.

'

"_Hey, England, I will choose liberty after all."_

_**No… This can't be happening…**_

_ Rain poured from the heavens unto the blood-soaked battlefield. England stood with his musket facing the battered ground, unable to look up. In front of him stood America wearing the blue uniform of the colonists, his eyes determined as he pointed the musket at England's face._

_ "I'm no longer your child or your baby brother."_

_**Not from you, of all people…**_

_ "From now on, I'm independent."_

_**Does that mean you're abandoning me?**_

_"Acknowledge it…! ! !"_

_**Never.**_

_ England had to act as quick as he could. He thrust the musket forward, only for America to deflect the blow with his own. Nevertheless, the force was great enough that it knocked the weapon out of his arms, causing the boy to be defenseless._

_ "You were always so naïve, you fool…" America looked cautious as England was now the one pointing the gun at his face. Meanwhile, the colonists behind him were getting ready to fire, prepared to kill him if England did anything to hurt their nation._

Let them fire,_ England thought, his finger moving to the trigger. _I might as well die along with this blasted fool…

_England held that position for quite some time, his hand on the trigger, ready to finish America off with one shot. With one shot, he could prevent America from leaving him. With one shot, he could stop worrying about America growing strong enough to not need him. With one shot, he could stop worrying about America becoming something other than 'England's baby brother'. With one shot…_

_ America's looked utterly bewildered as England lifted the gun away from him. He felt as if his arms were weighted with lead. "T-there's no point in firing, is there…" England dropped the weapon to the ground, dropping along with it as all strength left him. "Fool…"_

_ He felt betrayed. He felt shattered, broken, destroyed, obliterated… And yet, at that moment, he couldn't help but remember the time he and America were in a meadow, the sun high up in the sky. They had been exploring the country, since America was eager to learn more about himself. 'Let's go home,' he had said, offering his hand to the small boy sitting at his feet. America accepted the hand, beaming at him innocently. Now…_

_ "Damn it…" Tears flowed freely down his face. England brought a hand up to cover it, not wanting to appear weaker than he already was. How could the nation he cared so much about do this to him? "Why…damn…"_

_ "England…" It was hard to hear America through the pouring rain and through the sound of his own sobs. "You used to be so big…"_

'

"Didn't I tell you not to go through the corridor with the brown and white-fringed rugs?"

England jumped as he turned back to see America standing at the doorway, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned on the doorframe. He did not seem mad at the slightest, only unnaturally calm. "Oh well. I suppose you would have found it sooner or later… Even though you _did_ find it way sooner than I expected."

America sighed and kneeled down, his arms half-open as if he was beckoning England to come forward. England padded forward shakingly, still not recovering from the tumult of emotions he just went through. He kept walking until he was in front of America, where he sat down on his hind legs. He looked straight up at America, who had suddenly grown gentler. This was neither the normal loud and obnoxious America nor was it the gentler but worried America; this was a mixture of both.

"Canada and France already left," he stated quietly when England sat down. "Something came up and they had to go back. I didn't notice you were gone until France pointed it out to me," America smiled. "I wish you could have told me that you left; that way, maybe I could have prevented you from coming in here," he let out a small laugh. "I don't think it would have mattered much anyways."

He picked up England and sat down crossed-legged. "Remember how we were arguing about whether or not you were England? Well, let me tell you about him, especially since you found this room."

America frowned. "He's naggy and old and he always invites me over for that food of his, even though it tastes like crap," his voice steadily grew. "And he's always complaining about something I do! When he doesn't, he's either criticizing me or giving me a backhanded compliment that's basically a sugar-coated insult!" His frown deepened. "It's like I can never live up to his expectations!"

_Is that really what he thinks of me?_ England tried to back away slowly, but America had too tight a grip on him. "And have I told you that he's an absolute workaholic? Seriously, when does that guy get a break? Even since I was young, everything was about work for him; he even works in Christmas! Honestly, that guy is impossible…"

America furrowed his eyebrows as he gave a slight squeeze. "But that just makes his disappearance even weirder. I mean, someone like him would never miss out a meeting until he was at the brink of death, and he would never miss a meeting he's hosting himself! Everything just doesn't add up…" He sighed, lying on his back with England on his chest. "Really, I don't get that guy…"

They stayed like that for a while, America just stroking England's fur absentmindedly as he was lost in his own thoughts. Luckily, England had thoughts of his own.

_Just… just what is with it with America? ! _He felt like exploding from frustration. _I can't tell if he likes me or hates my guts! One moment he calls us friends and he says he's worried about me, then the next he's insulting me non-stop! It's aggravating how confusing he is right now!_ England tried to move away from America's hand, but at the same moment, America had sat back up again. England let out a small yowl and then looked back up at America.

"I forgot that I was telling you about England!" England could only stare as America suddenly decided to continue what he was saying. "I still haven't told you how England ties into this room, haven't I? Well, I've known England for a long while, but not as long as France or some others," he seemed like he wanted to say something else, but stopped himself. "Despite that, I don't really seem to get along with England. I mean, I've said that we were friends, but there are times when I wonder about that…" he looked like he would sigh, but he didn't. "But then this room… Haha, looking at me, I don't seem like the person to have something like this at all, aren't I Arthur?"

This time, America really did sigh, but it came out calm and reserved. "I tried a lot of times to clean this room and maybe throw some things away, but for some reason I just can't do it. Lithuania told me that it's 'growing up', but honestly…" America smiled. "Some of these stuff came from England you know. He may be an irate old geezer, but he means well even if he can't express himself right. This room always reminds me of the good times I've spent with him as well as the bad, and I can't just throw any of these things away. Those memories are much too important for me, even though there are times when it hurts too much," his voice suddenly went softer. "It may seem like he doesn't approve of anything, but that just makes the moments he praises you all the more special, doesn't it? And even though he overworks himself, it's only because he really cares about his country. And that's not even all of England that I've told you," he looked at England straight on, his eyes sad. "I really wish England would be found already. I mean, without England, who'll be the one who constantly berates me for doing things wrong?"

_This idiot…_ England walked forward until his face was only mere inches away from America's._ I really don't understand how he thinks… Why can't he just say things straight for once…?_ He lightly pushed his lips on the other, a cool sensation going through him before his eyes were blinded with light.

'''''

America suddenly pushed him off of him. "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT? !" England had no time to retaliate as he fell flat on his butt, his arms reflexively moving behind him to soften his fall.

Wait…

Arms?

England sat up and held his hands to his face, shock going through him as he realized that they were indeed hands. "I… I've turned back?" England looked at America, suddenly realizing that he didn't have to look up so much to be face to face with him. "I've turned back!"

America looked at him with a dumbfound stare. "E…England? ! What… what are you doing here? What happened to Arthur? !"

England laughed mirthfully. "I'm back! Ha, maybe there really are more than one way to break the potion's effects!"

"Potion?" America's expression showed sheer bewilderment. "England, I think you should explain what the hell is going on."

"Huh?" England broke out of his euphoria. "Oh yes, I suppose that that's the appropriate thing to do. Well, I was at the meeting and-" Darkness suddenly obscured England's vision as something hard hit his face. His hands automatically went to his face, and he realized that America's jacket was at his face. He pulled it off of his face. "Now what the bloody hell was that for? !"

America's face was a light shade of red, and he wasn't facing England anymore. "Place on some clothes first! Do you realize that you have absolutely _nothing_ on? !"

"What? !" Heat rose to England's face as he realized that what America had said was true. He hastily put on America's jacket, a bit surprised at how warm it was. "Y-you can look now America…" England looked away as America turned back, but not before he saw that America was still blushing.

"Err, I'll go get you some clothes first," he heard him mumble. "I can't exactly think straight when you're sitting there half-naked with just my jacket on."

"T-that would be a good idea, w-wouldn't it?" England looked down, faintly aware that his face was probably beet-red. "Although, I remember a similar thing happening before."

"England, I have never seen you half-naked unless it was swimming, and I'm pretty sure that it's the same for you."

"N-no! I mean, it happened while I was still Arthur!" He looked back up to see America staring at him skeptically. "I _am_ Arthur, you know!"

"Prove it," America folded his arms stubbornly. "Tell me something that only Arthur knows."

England scowled. "Well, seeing as how you've just so _pleasantly_ called me a workaholic and an 'irate old geezer', I don't see why I have to justify myself to you when you just saw me transform back."

"Could be just an illusion. Plus, anyone can tell that you're those things even _without _me telling you," America waved one of his hands. "You're going to need a better example to prove to me that you really are Arthur."

"Git, you didn't let me finish," England leaned forward until he could touch America's cheek. "You can't throw away anything in this room because of the memories you have of everything in here," America's eyes widened. "And you're right; no one would have expected you to have a room such as this. But Lithuania's right as well, all it means is that you're growing up and that you have something precious to be sentimental about," England removed his hand. "Look, I'm sorry for all the troubled I caused. To make a long story short, somehow a potion that was meant for you managed to spill and affected us four instead. It was petty of me, but I wanted to use that potion as revenge for that fight we had and-" England was suddenly pulled into a kiss. His eyes widened in surprise, but then he closed it a few seconds later. In what seemed like either an eternity or three seconds, America pulled back.

"Don't," a small grin formed on his face. "I don't remember why we even fought in the first place, and as much as I would like to take revenge for what you almost did to me, I don't feel like it. All that matters now is that you're found, and that's all I care about," his grin grew. "After all, who else can get mad at me like you do?"

"I-idiot, you call that a reason?" England's face started to heat up. "That reminds me, you really need to clean that bedroom of yours! I didn't raise you to be such a mess! And you don't need to throw anything away in here, but the least you can do is clean it up a bit so that there isn't so much dust in here! And what were you thinking, feeding a cat hamburgers? You're lucky that I could eat human food, otherwise I'd be-" he was pulled into a hug.

"Dude, you really need to learn when to shut up," America buried his face onto England's hair. "It's good to have you back England."

"I… America you idiot…" England tried to sound scolding, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face.

_It's good to be back._

* * *

_So how was it? I hope this ended up well (and kudos to any person automatically knowing that the attic would be brought up when they realized that England was in America's house and that I used Hetalia strips in here). I had this planned, but you know how it is when you plan something in your mind and then get it down on paper… Oh well, I tried. I tried to make America and England's relationship romantic but still have that brotherly feel to it, so I hope I didn't fail at that… Ok then, one more update and then story's over! I hope you'll stick around until then!_


	6. Epilogue

_Sweet hamburgers, it's already the end of the story... (Wow, this is the first story of mine to be finished, minus Cendrillon, which I already finished long before I posted it here). Thanks to all the people that read this story and reviewed! It's going to be a short update__, so I hope you like it! (PS, the story idea that won in the poll will be published after this one, so look for that if you're interested!) Oh, and pardon my foreign languages; I use a translator (Google Translate in fact)._

* * *

Flying Mint Bunny opened his eyes. The creature stretched out its tiny body as he yawned, a beam of sunlight falling into the room from a window nearby.

_I wonder where Master is?_ It had been a few days since his England had found Flying Mint Bunny asleep in the Italies' house and had taken him back. Somehow, his master had managed to turn back to normal, although he refused to tell him how he managed to turn back (for some reason, he had been blushing when he was explaining...). Flying Mint Bunny didn't care; everything was back to normal, and that was all that mattered.

His eyes fell on the half-opened door of the bedroom. _Oh,_ a conclusion formed in his mind. _He probably left for some place. Probably to be with that American or something. _Lately, his master had been spending quite some time with the cheery nation, whether it be texting, emailing, or even video-chatting. This didn't bother Flying Mint Bunny in the least; he had always known that his master harbored feelings toward the North American nation, so it was good that the cat was finally out of the bag. _I should probably go look for him; I still haven't told him about the wasted fairy dust._ He knew how much England valued his ingredients (especially since they were getting rarer by the decade) so he had been dreading the moment when he had to tell him.

Wearily, he jumped down from the desk he had been sleeping on and onto the green carpeted floor. He padded towards the door, passing by the gilded body-length mirror near it with a half-awake brain. Briefly, he saw his reflection on the shiny surface, his mint green fur showing on the corner of his eye, his triangular ears folded tiredly as he-

Wait.

_Triangular _ears?

He stopped in front of the mirror, slowly turning to see his _full_ reflection. Instead of a petite bunny with wings, the reflection showed a fluffy mint green kitten. Wide black eyes was staring in utter shock at the mirror, although when he had calmed down a bit, he realized that his eyes were normally wide and round. Surprisingly, he had a rather broad chest, although his chubby cheeks made him appear much younger. He had short legs and round paws, a plush but not-so-fluffy tail waving behind him.

_Wha... Wha..._

_What is going on? !_

Several thoughts ran through his head. _Did Master figure out about that wasted fairy dust and this is my punishment? ! But he rarely punishes me! He usually gives me a warning or something! And fairy dust isn't so hard to come by!_ His chest was rising and falling as he tried to control his rapid breath. _Ok, umm... I _really_ doubt that this is because of a punishment, so what else can-?_ His eyes widened at a sudden realization. _The potion! It must have affected me too! _Memories of that day came floating in his mind, and he realized that he was close enough to have been affected by the potion. _Maybe the only reason the reaction was delayed was because of how I'm a magical creature. Master designed the potion for countries, so naturally a non-country like me wouldn't be affected straight away. _He suddenly found himself pacing. _But how will I turn back? All the fairy dust is gone, and the fairies aren't back yet, so that leaves the normal cure out of the way... Oh nutburgers, I wish Master told me how he turned back; it would save me a lot of trouble._

Flying Mint Bunny would have sighed if he could. He sat down morosely. _What should I do? I _could _wait here until Master England came back, but who knows how long he'll take._ That wasn't even considering the possibility that England wouldn't be spending the night back at home at all. _I think it might be better to look for him. It's pretty risky, but it's the only way that I _know _England would know of my situation._

Closing his eyes in concentration, Flying Mint Bunny (or Walking Mint Kitten, but he preferred to go by his old name before he lost hope of ever turning back) tried to 'look' for his master. Sure enough, England's aura came into mind. _Good, it hasn't been that long since he left!_ He ran out of the room. _If I run, I bet I could catch up with him!_

With renewed energy, Flying Mint Bunny ran into the hallway. He closed his eyes again, sensing for the aura. _That way!_ He ran to his left, the aura getting stronger with each few steps he was taking.

_Yes! _ Euphoria went through him as he rounded a corner._ If everything goes right, I'll be back in my old body in no ti-_ Just then, voices wafted through the hallway.

"Are you sure you know the way to his room France?"

"_Mon ami, _do you have _any_ reason to doubt me?"

"Franny old buddy, we do. _Especially_ since we're doing this for payback for turning us into cats."

"Butt out Prussia, I was asking _Espagne_."

_Shoot!_ Flying Mint Bunny skidded into a halt. _If those three see me, who knows that they'll do to me!_ Turning back, Flying Mint Bunny tried to run away by hiding behind the corner he had gone through, but...

"Oh look, a kitty!"

_Crap._

Flying Mint Bunny turned around to face the three nations. Spain was crouched down on the floor, an expression of interest on his face. He was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing the day of the meeting, although the clothes looked as if they had been laundered recently. "Woah! Take a look at this guys!"

France walked up closer to Flying Mint Bunny, who shied away when he got too close. He was wearing a wheat brown suit and a striking red tie over a white shirt. "I knew that there were rather _étrange _creatures in _Angleterre's_ house, but I did not expect a specimen such as this to exist."

Prussia eyed Flying Mint Bunny cautiously. He wore a casual red jacket and a white shirt, his dark jeans fastened together by a leather belt with a silver buckle. Fastened around his neck was a collar, although Flying Mint Bunny couldn't read the words on the name tag. "I knew the guy was an oddball, but who knew that he did experiments on cats?"

"[He does not do experiments on cats!]" Flying Mint Bunny protested. "[I'm subject under the same spell as you guys were until I turned you guys back!]"

All three of the nations fell into a collective silence. "...Did that cat just try to talk to us?" Prussia said finally.

Even Spain seemed to lose his default happy demeanor. "You don't think that this cat could be...?"

"N- _non,_" France's voice was shaking slightly. "Only the nations in the room that time turned into a cat. Unless there was a third nation in the room, I doubt that this _chat_ is a nation like us."

"I don't know France, there's that nation nobody ever notices," Prussia's voice held thinly-hidden skepticism. "What was his name again? Canada or something?"

"That can't be; he was the one who took care of me," France knitted his eyebrows together. "Plus, I would have noticed if he was in the room. I'm just about the only person who did that time. I assure you, there was no one else in that room other than us four."

"[That's because you can't see me!]" Flying Mint Bunny was practically begging now. "[You guys don't have the 'Sight', so naturally you didn't see me in the room! Please, can you just leave me alone so that I could go to my master and get turned back to normal?]" A rising sense of panic engulfed the little bunny-turned-cat as his master's aura started to go stale. "[Please! Can't you hear how desperate I am? !]"

Spain frowned. "Guys, maybe this little kitty _is_ something like how we were," they looked at him with rather obvious doubt. Spain brought his hands up. "Maybe some other nation in the meeting got turned into a cat like us," Flying Mint Bunny's hopes rose. "I'm not sure _how_ we turned back, but all I know is that we all turned back after someone took us in."

"[No!]" His hope plummeted into the ground at the Spanish nation's words. "[If you take me somewhere else, then England won't be able to find me and turn me back!]" However, none of the nations seemed to be paying attention to him.

"Hmm, Spain's got a point," Prussia crouched down in thought, the little bird on his shoulder having the same expression. "The question is, who'll take him?"

The three nations looked at each other. "Canada bought a rather nice bed for me while I was a cat," France started out slowly. "It'd be a shame if his money went to waste."

"He has that bear, just give it to him," Prussia waved a hand. "I'm not saying that I'm doing it because I'm nice, but I know a _certain_ nation that could use some company."

"I don't know about you guys," Spain's eyes narrowed, remind Flying Mint Bunny of an expression he had seen on paintings of his Master during his "pirate" era (even though he kept insisting on "privateer", Flying Mint Bunny always used pirate. It was much simpler that way). "But my Roma would like a new muse. And a mint green kitty would _certainly_ provide some inspiration... _Especially_ since it's so adorable! I mean, I just want to take it home!" His expression cleared up as he beamed widely.

Another silence fell between them. France cleared his throat. "Men, I think we need to settle this in a much more... _appropriate _fashion."

"Duel to the death?" Prussia was quick to the punch. "Wrestling? Rock-Paper-Scissors?"

"Neither. What I am suggesting is..._this!_" He quickly scooped up Flying Mint Bunny in his arms. "_Pour le Canada (For Canada)!_"

"You bastard! ! !" Prussia caught him as he took up, doing a series of maneuvers before finally settling in a headlock. "That _cat _is mine, dammit!"

"Don't you mean for Russia?" Even under danger, France managed to sneak in a quip. Prussia turned red.

"Sh-shut up! It's only a favor, dammit, a favor!" Prussia's grip loosened, allowing France an opportune moment to escape. Unfortunately, an attack to the knees sent Prussia falling backwards, making France lose that opportunity. Both nations fell into a thud as Flying Mint Bunny was pried off the French nation's hands.

"France _mi amigo_, that was a dirty trick," Spain smiled triumphantly at the two fallen nations. "However, the Country of Passion always come out on top!" Spain made a run for it. "_¡Viva España!_"

_Oh fiddlesticks,_ Flying Mint Bunny didn't know how to react at the whole thing. Behind them, he could hear France and Prussia getting up, and judging by their battle cries, they were going to be after them soon. _Master England, please just save me now!_

**Meanwhile...**

"Yo England," A hand clamped down on his shoulders. England looked behind him to see the sky blue eyes of a familiar country. "You okay? You seem sort of out of it..."

They were standing at the entrance hall, just about ready to go out. England turned around so that he could face America completely. America was wearing a brown jacket over a plaid one (England didn't know why; he just did) and under that was a white T-shirt that said "Who's Your Hero?" in red letters. He wore dark blue jeans and brown loafers, actually looking a bit more dressed up than how he normally was (although he was dressed casually enough for the occasion). His ash-blonde was still the same, with Nantucket sticking out, but his eyes were clouded with worry instead of their normal happiness.

"I...I'm fine," England's voice faltered. "It's just a headache, that's all."

"We don't have to go out you know," America still sounded concerned. "We can just stay here. I mean, your place is pretty cool too."

"No no, it's fine," England pushed his hands off his shoulder. "I'm sure that it's just an after-effect from turning back into a human. It took some time for it to hit, but it's not the first time that the after-effects came late."

"You mean you do these kinds of things all the time?"

"Not to the extent that my outward appearance change, but I do experiment from time to time," He paused. "Only to myself though," England took an umbrella off the stand near the doorway. "Are you coming, or are you expecting me to go on a date by myself?"

America grinned. "And what do you plan to do with a hotel room all to yourself? This day may be just for you, but the hero refuses to let you go by yourself."

A light blush appeared on England's cheeks at the American's cheesy words. "I-idiot, just come on!" He grabbed his arm and tugged it lightly as they walked out the door, America laughing lightheartedly at England's reaction. Before closing the door, England looked back, as if he was expecting something to appear.

_Why does it seem like something is...?_ He shook his head. _I'm sure it's nothing._ England closed the door, looking forward to the date he was going to have.

* * *

_Don't worry, our favorite little Mint Bunny gets turned back eventually XD (For those who care, Flying Mint Bunny turned into a British Shorthair. Or something like it) End of story! Again, thank you to everyone who liked, reviewed, followed, and favorited this story! I hope you liked the story, and thank you for being patient (I'm sorry for putting you guys through my erratic updating; it's what happens when you update when you're inspired)!_


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